If I were to write you a eulogy 

I would start by saying

You are not dead

I still see you in the mirror

In the smile lines painted 

permanently onto my face

I carry you in the baggage under my eyes

Every man after you 

Will see you in the reflection 

of my face

I still feel you 

in the prickling of my skin

between clenched thighs 

inside the chaos of my chest

and the burning of my tears

How could you be dead?

If it feels like 

You never left