Baby boy

I felt the innocence
of his soul
in the naivety of his speech,
but I led him on
with my soft yet deceptive nods
while I rendered him my ears.

I watched his fingertips
tremble from the great battle
that was going down in his mind
as he contemplated on what exactly he should,
and shouldn't say
and when I took his palms in mine,
I felt his heartbeat
as it resonated the purity,
in his childish wisdom.

A playful tease danced,
at the tip of my tongue
but I refused to hinder him
from allowing his spirit wander free,
in my presence.

His eyes flickered with fear,
and his troubled face left me
feeling as helpless as I usually do
because the same shackles bind me,
so that we can only offer each other
the comfort that comes with companionship.

I refuse to be the one who will encourage him
to throw away his shorts,
for some pants;
a boy cannot teach a boy,
to be a man.

I would rather sit,
and watch his radiating skin shed
with time and life,
and watch it give way
to the puberty filled skin
of a stressed out teenager.

I would rather kiss my baby
until his brown skin almost turns red 
in a blush,
while I tell him he is the man of my life
and he tells me the only truth I believe 
like the black and white words,
in His book:
'I love you too'.