I See You Pussycat

I see you pussycat, do you believe
I am that dull? Although I have moments
Of foolhardiness, times when I take leave
Of the little I have of common sense,
Even you must admit I'm pretty smart
When properly motivated, and Will
Becomes, once again, abject slave to Heart:
I accomplish seven wonders and still
Have time for sonnets. But for your feline
Grace and your mystery I'm a sucker:
Did you rub against my breasts by design?
Do you love the she-thing, did you fuck her?
Do you hate me? Do you even know why?
And will we never speak again - then die?