If it were the end of the word, I'd eat your scabs.
I'd eat your calves, but not your thighs.
I'd eat both your biceps. Your triceps, too.
I'd eat brown eyes, black eyes, but not blue.
I'd pickle most eyes. Yes, I'm sorry, but I'd pluck out your eyes.
Aside from that, though, I wouldn't go anywhere near your face.
Your neck, maybe, but certainly not your brain.
I'd boil you down and keep all your bones.
I'd use your blood as broth but I would not eat your heart.