Flitch of Fetch

Bring it home and you’ve won.
Catch your flesh and carve it,
Cure a slice and keep it.

Salt it well; don’t eat it.
That’s you, pal. Just like you
Not to see it. Look sharp.

It’s in here, next to you.
You’re in here with the thought
That this is just us and you,

But no. Your fetch is here,
The blood and the skull bowl
That churns with us and you.

And you thought you were it,
You were all flesh of you.
No, you’re words, too. You flinched.