Keeping You

[Alic Elliot]

I wish I had the hands of Michelangelo
so I could sculpt another you
out of my tears and all your ashes;
not a David, but a you---
your lungs, your heart, our eyes Our eyes? Did you mean your?
fired in a kiln of Bic lighters
until sooty and black.
 
I would stuff you with those million foam filters
that you flicked between the bricks on our front porch
so you’d be squishy and soft,
then scent you in Irish Spring
and whiten with Crest. The idea of building a person in this manor makes mr kinda feel all warm and fuzzy, in a good-weird Dr. Frankenstein type way. 
I’d mind never to set you too close
to the microwave, so you’d never get
nuked out of existence--- These dashes create an unnecessary, sharp pause, which doesn't really go with saddness. Use dots instead, maybe?
 
again.
 
Once you were the Marlboro man
and we rode together, not on a Camel, Puns are great. Kudos for working a pun into a sad poem.
but in a ‘97 Ford Taurus:
You in the front,
me in the car seat behind you.
We sang along to “Mrs. Robinson,”
blew bubbles,
and I learned your particular
“drag racing.”
Those trips to Circle K
meant ice-cream drumsticks, heartfelt memories of a lost loved one always tugs at my heartstrings. 
more fuel [for your   a d d i c t i o n]
and not telling mom. Are they related or lovers? I can't quite tell with this and the last stanza.
_________________________________________________________________________
 
You built our home out of old cardboard packs
in the center of a ring-around-the-rosie.
 
But when we all fell down,
you never
               got
                   back
                          up.
 
Warm and fuzzy in all the right places then breathtakingly sad. 
My Marlboro man. 

My few qualms with this are minor. I don't understand whether the speaker is a lover or a sibling, and there's a few spacing errors for me, but that's about it. Nicely done.