Each day, she gives me no clue
To the conditions
That must be met 
In order for me to receive
The same sort of love
That I received yesterday.

She provides no hint at all
Of the changes that I need to make
In order to be perfect in her eyes.

She provides no guidance
As to how I can be any better man than I am,
Any more attentive,
Any more loving.

She says nothing about my faults...
She lists not my imperfections...
Her complaints about me are silent.

Then she take it even one step further.

She calls me handsome.

She says I am intelligent and useful.
She smiles when I enter the room.

And she kisses me...

Only because she wants to.