I’m frigid like I’ve always been, long and thin ensures the consistent brink of hypothermia. 
It’s curious how often I am entertained by the idea of hypothermia

melodramatic and big expressions 

Numb toes and white knuckles 
But can shitty blood flow really be why I’m such a frigid person? Why my soul is frosted breath and my heart is a glacier? 
A lack of empathy or maybe a selfish tendency. 
The ice on my tongue can only protect me 
But still I thank the goddess 
For his fire, his entropy 
Wrap me in, surround me, consume me. 
Thank God he feasts on me 
Satin skin, fingertips outlining every word I wish I had said sooner 
So melt.