A Tilt in the Petals

The pattern below was chaotic. Too many painted petals, overlapping without clear logic. I observed them for a while in the dim light. Then, a pulse began at my base. I shifted my weight forward. My base tilted against the woven cloth, pressing into a faded red blossom beneath me. It yielded slightly. I am not rigid anymore. I stood upright again, keeping completely still, watching the shadow stretch across the fabric.