Air Movement

It's empty; I am surrounded by bodies but my world is unpopulated, stagnant.

Mouths open and close; the amplification and rarification of air; the breath scent repugnant.

Doppler kicks in cancelling the hertz;
I can only stare and wonder what the words mean.
 
I should not be here.
My head hurts, like a tusker in musth.

Who are they trying to impress? Me?
I don't want to comprehend. Their words will be dust.