Aquarius 23. In a catacomb, a room decorated with hundreds of skulls and bones.
At night you could hear the skulls, hundreds of them whispering to each other, recalling memories, telling each other stories, offering words of comfort. The leg and arm bones were content to rest, and to stir a little as they found more comfortable places for themselves. Sometimes ribs missed the hearts they protected, but not much, senses that the hearts had bloomed in other places, the way flowers wilt and come back in spring.
The bones enjoyed their life together, like gems having been put back into the mine where they were born. When visitors came the bones grew silent, respectful of the lives of others. In their shyness they wished not to intrude.