Oh why does loving hurt so much?
And bite so hard with such smooth teeth?
And clutch so tightly at my heart
As though to stifle every beat?
Just one dark look, one heavy word,
Is like the lash of some foul whip,
And lacerates my tender frame,
And brings a quiver to my lip.
In vain I try to stem the ache –
Othello’s antique pain.
The handkerchief is suspect still
My anguish will remain.