While the flesh is young,
Thawed and succulent to your own,
That — perhaps — is the day
You ought to have a piece of yourself
Cut off, or simply bitten; your way.
Even as the rest of them in secret
Make you an object multifold
In their half penny desires uncouth,
Unrefined, random; untold,
Take a day off to realize what, in your body, you hold.
Thus, I spake to you of food
But to make your eating habits good.