Frost's Embrace

Sometimes I like to think there are glaciers inside each body. Depending on your Kelvin scale it can be nearing subatomic still, and as you push each nanoscopic bead so unveils a center with a frail silhouette beating. A cryogenic chamber, of the child you must’ve been. The age and variance in the child’s form differs from person to person, though inevitably each child seems to enter hibernation. Some enter by fifth grade. Some are born with it.

It’s an interesting contradiction, isn’t it? How, with enough cold, you’ll keel over. But push the dial more and now we got our sci-fi: vitals preserved and waiting for revival. And if you had to choose between bitter stings with each movement or a indefinite sleep with a dream world under your control, why not? No one is looking anyway.

I guess that’s why, sometimes, with enough warmth, you’ll see others crying. With enough of a thaw the child gasps and finds the temperature foreign, yet yearned for, of all their life. And with each bump by the thermostat the wounds unwrap. Still as visceral as the day one fell arrest.

This is also the failing state of the child, if you think about it long enough. Why yearn for warmth? It’s a destabilizing force if anything. Unless you thaw at a consistent and steady rate, rapid fluctuations spell certain doom and teetering a flatline ending.

The heart may be completely inert and yet there are no more fresh wounds to dig in. However demeaned or demands put forth, one shall pour the liquid nitrogen and swirl the purest stream. With a glacier rivaling mountains, wouldn’t that be a strength to find a twisted warmth in?

Some build glaciers of titans, ready to standby the screeching ahead: this is quite the affordance, if you aim for it. Some may never be able to; whenever I see the old woman hobbling toward the bus stop I do wonder if they managed enough of a barrier. Last phone call five years ago.

If we would write in the axiom, indeed, that any such warmth is rarely steady and lasting other than our dear Sun, especially depending on the intensity and amount of ice-block to melt, one could instead see it as a weapon. If you reinforce your igloo enough you’ll start to see the subterfuge. To crawl under skins. Let it be imprinted: upon first entry into the retirement home one will learn how the last 80 years were mere ants squabbling.

Ah, the titans at least understand.