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P I Watson Apr 2022
Every morning I wake up

So sad you are not my girlfriend,
So deeply sorry I hurt you,
So angry I didn’t stop myself,

So afraid you are entirely done with me,
So grateful you still take my calls,
So determined to get you back,

So clear you are all that I want,
So relieved you are all that i need,
So resolved that i will never risk losing you again,

So certain I can make you so happy,
Knowing i will never again make you so sad,
So ready to put my ego aside and beg you to let me show you,
So hopeful you will one day say yes,
P I Watson Apr 2022
Words drawn in Sharpie across a middle aged bicep.
Temporary permanence on a sagging icon of power
The mixed message of delivery doesn’t dampen the truth
of the words, "Everything will be OK"

Can that be reassuring? 
That promise of middling circumstances. 
Or is ok enough?

Bring me the equilibrium of contentment
after the whiplash of euphoria and pain. 
Suspend me in gelatinous stasis
after the boiling and cooling of formation.

Amazing is only for a moment.
Awful is, until it isn't.
OK is enduring
P I Watson Apr 2022
He is off to devour the babysitter

No need for shoes in the summer heat

No need for pants inside the house

Three steps at a time, tiny claws awhir
Tyrannosaurus teeth aching to crunch the bones of his Brazilian prey



Sometimes I remember to move carefully around his loud, joyful willingness

Or I don't remember

And tear a fat chunk of adventure out of him with a stinging rebuke



But he is a T-Rex with two tons to spare
P I Watson Mar 2022
You found me churning,
Bouncing up and down
As I rolled dramatically downhill.
You knew what would be better
And calmly intervened

You took hold with confident hands
And bent my trajectory
Up into U shaped happiness

The highs and lows have softened
The amplitude modulated
The direction now up and forward

I want you with me on this gentle arc
Our slopes equivalent
Our speeds matched

Ahead I can see
sunny days on lakes
crisp mornings in the mountains
Autumns on golden ponds.

Our path winds by popped corks and caps thrown,
New suits for social media internships,
Wedding toasts and father-daughter dances.

We will share new houses with old friends,
Co-ed baby showers with pink predator t-shirts,
Bad poems at retirement parties.

I could not see these things if it weren’t for you
Thank you for bending my curve
P I Watson Mar 2021
So sweet, the man without hands or feet
He is the spitting image of my daughter's ideal
Tie, briefcase, portly belly
Perfectly powerful
If only I (and she) could keep this picture forever
P I Watson Jul 2020
Stock stone still we wait
Frozen until we are sure
we heard simon says
P I Watson Jul 2020
I wake up
with you on my lips,
but it's only your name
and not your kiss.

I dreamt of you,
and I can’t get back
to our unconscious innocence.
I wish we had not woken.

The crack lets the light in.
Pitiless beams expose my lies,
and reveal your absence.
Regret is making coffee in the kitchen.
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