Bleed Into My Boy
Published in Chronogram, 2021
This is my son,
I draw him a bit darker today.
I draw him a bit darker today.
I press hard on the pen
and feel the weight and watch the ink–
bleed into my boy.
and feel the weight and watch the ink–
bleed into my boy.
I draw him,
and I press hard.
Because I think on him,
I love on him every day.
and I press hard.
Because I think on him,
I love on him every day.
I watch the ink
play through his hair,
dripping into tiny locs–
dreaded.
play through his hair,
dripping into tiny locs–
dreaded.
What is this,
my son, twelve and bigger each day.
I can feel a new firmness in his back
when we wrestle.
my son, twelve and bigger each day.
I can feel a new firmness in his back
when we wrestle.
I think on this sketch.
This darker sketch–
of my boy carried into our lighter town.
He’s chasing a friend across a neighbors yard.
This darker sketch–
of my boy carried into our lighter town.
He’s chasing a friend across a neighbors yard.
How hard do I–
press the pen,
before my boy is a threat,
and not a friend?
press the pen,
before my boy is a threat,
and not a friend?
