Bleed Into My Boy 
This is my son
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
I draw him
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
What is this
my fair 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
How hard do I
press the pen
before my boy is a threat
and not a friend