Peel off my skin – unmarked, whole, pale. A near perfect hide, ready for the tanner’s dye.
Scrape off the fat and boil it down, burn it hot to light your way. Or if seeing with me disgusts you utterly – whisk it with lye, and wash me down the sink.
Pluck out my nails, cook them with acid. I will adhere at your command.
Enjoy my organs. Extract them from me one by one. Take all my nutrients.
My muscles, of course, are the feast. Gorge yourself. Marinate and dry what remains – I will be a wonderful snack.
My bones – dense, still young, not yet brittle. The smaller can be boiled to stock or charred to kohl, the larger cracked open, the marrow sucked out. My skull (once the brains are removed, peeled, fried, consumed) can be a bowl, my teeth bright coat buttons, my femurs (with care) carved into something beautiful.
Or perhaps this is too much effort to expend on me. In that case simply feed me into the grinder, all of me together, my skeleton, my flesh, my liver heart lungs bladder, my ovaries, my thyroid, the creamy fat under the skin, tendons catching in the blades, all my complex moving parts atomised and suspended in blood.
Homogenise me. Collect the slurry. Use it to grow your flowers.
I should not have been entrusted with this complex of proteins and minerals. I have wasted it. I have made it repellent. Only once inanimate can this body be of use: the degenerate must be removed.
Unmake me. Turn me into something useful.
Turn me into something you want.
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