I miss your skin.
I miss your eyes. Your hair.
Your voice. Your jokes. Your laugh.
Your hands.
Your muscles, siniew, tendons, organs--
Your tongue, nose, ears--
most of the soft cartilage.

But it had been months,
And you were beginning to decompose
And I couldn't just let you rot away,
Disappear into nothing
As though you'd never existed.

"Become the Earth" they'd said.
"Ashes to ashes" they'd said.
"A better place" they'd guessed.

I couldn't let you go.
Not entirely.

I miss your smell.
I miss your skin.
But at least I have your bones,
Still safe, piled in the basement.
Where they belong.