.

   Love hurts - as reflected in the tracks of my tears.
   From the purple welts upon my cheeks
   to the tracks of your nails that claw my back,
   Love hurts.

   The subtle strokes from a riding crop, electrical cable or flex.
   Bedsteads and broomsticks, blinfolds and handcuffs,
   "O" the joy of sex!
 
   Her kinky boots' stiletto heels leave holes in yearning flesh,
   I'm never satisfied unless my buttocks are a mess.   
   And when I miss the wetlook smile of my dominatrix's lipstick
   I get supercalifragilistic-sadomasacistic.

   Love hurts!