Disassembling the body was elementary, even arbitrary. Each chiseled piece and shard disappeared as it lost its usefulness, but then there was the head, the beautiful and exotic head. The neck wasn’t important and so easily discarded, then the chin, carved off like a turkey breast, without a thought until I got to the lips, so full, sensuous, and silent. To cut them would be like defacing the Mona Lisa, but how far above them should I begin cutting again? I don’t want to stop his words; I want to make sure he can still tell me how he feels, I thought, until I suddenly realized I would never hear him again. I looked over at my husband looking so loving and encouraging as he smiled at me, and I saw the resemblance –it became perfectly clear –the mouth was his.