Answer:
Halo of water, tongue of wood. Skin of stone, long I've stood. My fingers short reach to the sky. Inside my heart men live and die.
I run around the city, but I never move.
What must be in the oven yet can not be baked? Grows in the heat yet shuns the light of day? What sinks in water but rises with air? Looks like skin but is fine as hair?
I am the outstretched fingers that seize and hold the wind. Wisdom flows from me in other hands. Upon me are sweet dreams dreamt, my merest touch brings laughter.
Iron roof, glass walls, burns and burns and never falls.
This food is a tortilla filled with cheese and sometimes chicken before being heated or cooked.