BODY AND SOUL

our cigarette smoke
built up
a spiral staircase

upon which
our conversation climbed
word by word

becoming now
a hieroglyph
blown away by the saxophone

our calligraphy  
of thought
written upon the air

the jazz making it
illegible
as a doctor's signature

words our words
collecting
upon the ceiling

like out of reach
cobwebs
or escaped Christmas balloons

our words looking down
upon us at all that was still left
unsaid