Secret Sonnet #8

Oh darling, how I long for you sometimes!
Why I am possessed of this unholy
Obsession I cannot say - all these rhymes
Pour out in tribute to you, love, solely,
Whether you deserve such honor or no.
And they are but rhyme, they have no reason
That Logic would claim as her own. But though
Cool sense defies you, my heart cries treason.
Please take me to bed in spite of our rift,
Free of inhibitions and free of clothes -
But you can wear your boots, to you my gift.
You once offered to perform in just those!
Thus prepared, we will get right to our task.
Pretty pretty please, love, that's all I ask.

#7 was not very naughty - this one's a bit more - and more blatant and literal than most, except perhaps for the personification of Logic. Kind of like the Violent Femmes' "Well Mr. Logic says it ain't never gonna happen..."