Fiddler on the Roof

How do I speak of the ache within?
Of the dagger embedded deep within?
The pain – blank, knowing no beginning nor end
Blissfully unaware of what came before or after
Just a dull ache somewhere deep within

The delicate neck bent over a thought
The back of a head
A smile
A twinkle in the eye
A voiced stréss
Fingers flying over keys
A raised brow and a curved lip

And that stab again
Of pain
Dull and deep
Do I pleasure in my pain?