John Tustin

Drowning in a Loneliness

Drowning in a loneliness that is so blue
and so complete that it is almost beautiful.
Almost beautiful in the same way
that I am almost good.

A gurgling water that invades the mouth
and the ears and the love
and the rest of it.

How it envelops, how it consumes,
how it fogs me up like a handful of pills.

Slow bullet train wreck blinking traffic light.

Being eaten by something so completely
it doesn’t even spit out the bones.

Ingested bones of present. Bones of past.
Bones of shipwrecks and murder and shrapnel
and folly and war.

Drowning in a loneliness that is so blue
and so complete that it is almost beautiful.
Almost beautiful in the same way
that I am almost good.

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