'Killing Odin's Ravens'

Imagine me as a place, somewhere between
Thought and Memory, perhaps as a time of day

Where would I be? When would I be?

If I were to touch you on your neck, underneath your clothes
Over all the places you hid from me
Would my hands no longer be mine?

Imagine me as a room, disarrayed
The lull of an electric fan
Singing along with the crickets
The space where no lovers can exist

Imagine me as two-thirty in the morning
As it rains over the hills
Everything dark with dreams

Monsters trying to get in
The skin over my heart so thin
The walls no longer fighting

I knew what was coming all along
After all, I had asked for it
When I had my hands on your neck, underneath your clothes
Over all the places you hid from me
When those hands were no longer mine

You were a room
With two empty chairs facing each other
Like mirrors or windows

And because I knew touching anything inside you
Would mean shattering everything
Like glass, over and over again, I did

I was small and hollow
And I could not love you any more
Than I could a stranger who stole my hands from me