quietus

geryon was a monster.  everything about him was red.

i was within a cosmic self-friendship,
something casual.

but the blue world
turned me into a battlefield.

i saw red-running hands
their red turning to silver

in water and the water
turning red.

the moon trailed a path
against the lake

and there was nothing left
to view through the window

nothing left
so the glass shattered.

when i thrust
a fist
against it.