I would, I were...

Things above our body, but would otherwise not exist if not for our bodies.

She speaks in calligraphy
the total of which is only
the beginning of a story.
Her tongue agonizing
like Carthusian monks
their heads balding from
where sin leaks like steam
from manhole covers.
They write in calligraphy.
Their tongues always still
like a boat which winds revolve
around.