Miniature waves of emotion settle in a drop, they roll down reaching out, reluctant to fall. The throat becomes sore, it stings as it pulls back as it tries to freeze the drop so it never falls; as it tries to stop something it can’t stop.
Waves of emotion fall down a steep slope, still warm. A river follows but soon breaks under a skinquake. It shakes off the rest, forcing them to land all over the chest.
Laksh’s note: Skinquake is officially a word.