Curing Beef

While this body
Sculpts itself
Around me
I remain trapped
Inside a mind
Over which
There is little control

Imagine myself
As a slab of meat
Attached
To hooks on wires
That cannot be reached
Regardless
Of how flexible
I might become

Afraid
Even if I could
Get free
Detachment
Would find me
As hotdog filler
On some butcher's
Stainless steel floor