Warmth of a tickle,
Descending the knees,
Which I can feel right above my ears,
In between the temples,
The nostrils are too big for my nose.
Smell of sweat,
Hidden (hopefully)
Behind a re-purposed(?)
Water-resistant jacket.
Supposedly I chose to drink
A fresh cup of orange juice because I wanted to warm up.
The air, not so fresh,
Pressurized behind open doors,
Keeps me warm.
Inside,
a hundred voices coalesce.
Halfspoken 