Two Fish

Make me pretty,

I want to say, before walking out of the door.

Make me pretty, somehow, amongst all the

anguish

of our lives.

I see the fingers

come through the water of our love,

and if I cannot comprehend the body

what can be said of

the soul?

Make me pretty,

I want to say.

When you talk

of this all too common

life,

make me pretty.

There is nothing else.