SHE MADE ME

watch
her undress
wanting
my tongue
to see
her scars.
Look
she said
how they curve
like a sorcerer's trick
disappearing
under a thick coat
of fur.
Touch them,
she said,
they come alive
under pressures
and penalties.
I laid back
whimpering.
I'd seen it
before
but couldn't
remember
the number
on her
door.

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2016