The realist in me may not desire to express
but my inner voice speaks volumes of your
niceness, of your fervor and spontaneity.
The realist in me may not wonder or wander
romantically but my soul feels happy to be
nurtured by your passionately loving nature.
The realist in me feels grateful that even after
being at odds with each other, you my mate, are
ready to give me my own space and comfort.
The realist in me may not say this time and again
but you matter, your entirety matters, your presence
sure does, and so does this love that we call ours.