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