bone deep cold

My extremities are full of ice
bone deep cold rattling me like a bag of baby teeth
saved in the despair of some unfathomable nostalgia
rag doll hung out to dry in winters whistle
the wind cuts me to the quick
no relief, not even in an ocean of cloth
poured over me endlessly like layers of terra firma,
oh were I the metal core
radiating heat like our sun
but I have found myself more akin to the moon
always hiding herself half in shadow
with no one to lean on but the earth
who pushes from so far away.
Something spreads through my veins
like saline pumped into a network of life sustaining roots
they spider and weave their way around ice and bone alike
and everything cracks and breaks like glass under the pressure of sudden change,
cant be moved too quickly between extremes, from cold to heat,
but body is mendable and eager to be remade, reset
by the expert, sure mind and steady hands.
I need to bathe in flames like the salamander
to be split by lightning and burned from the inside,
reborn like new growth that forms where the struck tree rots.
Roast me, find my corners and cook me through,
as a previously frozen cut of meat,
taste me, I'm edible
despite my unfavorable means of self preservation.