"You do know, right, that between the no- longer & the still- to-come you are being continually tattooed, inked with the skulls of everyone you've ever loved--the you & the you & the you & the you--you don't sit in a chair, thumb through a binder, pick a design, it simply happens each time you bring your fingers to your face to inhale him back into you . . . tiny skulls, some of us are covered. You, love, could simply tattoo an open door, light pouring in from somewhere outside, you could make your body a door so it appears you