Flawed

I've written you a love song once before
Or twice, or more, but who is keeping track?
You know by now of course that I adore
Your everything, and feel an urgent lack
When we are parted, even for an hour.
But did you know, or have I made it plain,
That even when you look upset, or sour,
I still adore you? If you should complain,
My first reaction is to try to change
Whatever is imperfect, not to fight,
And though I realize you think it strange,
There's nothing I would not try to make right.
I love your flaws, and hope you tolerate
My faults as well, and let me expiate.