It washes over me, soothing, calming. In the distant background— insignificance; no more than a calling to self.
It creeps there, into my spine, arching it backwards while loosening and popping vertebrae. I can feel it enter the roots of my teeth, then slide backward down toward my mandible, my skull, where squishy little silent particles have collected (I know they are there because I can sense them; they make a pleasant squeal when they rub together).
A feeling then gets into my chest, my heart, spirals around my hips.