The cool linoleum feels good
Against my bruises, muscle strain.
My heart beats faster than it should
Not out of love but tears and pain.

A fetal curl is apropos,
A witless child is what I am,
But no excuse have I to show,
My innocence a comic sham.

Twelve feet away my partner sleeps
Whose name I never cared to know.
This motel room no mem’ry keeps,
All faceless are we down below .

I have no right to make demand–
I’ve forfeited such bold appeal.
I only wish to stretch my hand
And firmly grasp on something real.

I don’t expect a faultless mate,
My share of hurts I’ll surely deal,
But one’s whose honest faults relate
To mine, whose life is something real.

I don’t desire a dreamy star,
A darling who my heart will steal,
But one who’ll grasp our dreams afar
And turn them into something real

I don’t require romantic charms
Or constant heed on how I feel
But one with loyal loving arms
Whose promises are something real.

I don’t demand unending pleasure,
Expensive wine, a lavish meal,
But one regarding me as treasure,
Who values me as something real.

See, I don’t need a perfect spouse,
So far am I from what’s ideal,
But one who’ll with me fill a house
With love that’s based on something real.

And with such love we’ll live a life,
No weaknesses we need conceal,
As one imperfect man and wife
We’ll build our world from something real.