on missing you

Here is the skin that you said you loved 
draped over the back of the chair in the kitchen. 
Here are the teeth. 
Here is the sternum, the clavicle, the fibula. 
Here are the angel bones laid out on top of the dresser like antique jewelry. 
Here are the earlobes, the knobby elbows, 
the beauty mark near my temple that always got a moan out of you. 
Here are my thighs, my femur. 
All ten toes, all ten fingers. 
My pubic bone, preserved and wrapped in a velvet bag. 
Your name on the tag. 
Your name on everything. 
Here is the body that loved you. 
Here is the heart, bloodied and wanting. 
Here are the drunk voice mails, the sober texts. 
Here is your promise of staying. 
Here is the lonely hum in my brain where your name used to be. 
Here is my spine. 
Here is all the hollow. 
Here is all the longing. 
Here is the heavy tongue, the scratchy vocal chords. 
Here are all the I love you's. 
Here is the shocking wreck of it all. 
Here is how you were closer to me than my bones, my skin. 
Here is the quiet city, your empty side of the bed. 
Here is the empty. 
Here is not knowing whether you loved me or not. 
Here is the poem that can't save us. 
Here.

(Kristina H)