By mksummerbell

I kissed you,

careful not to leave

my lipstick on your cheek,

mostly just touching

your face to mine,

my lips getting lost

in the softness of your hair.

And the scent of you, there,

at the nape of your neck,

brought such a swift,

surprising rush

of memories and feelings.

As, suddenly,

you are my baby

once again,

and I am holding you,

as I used to,

day and night,

when you were tiny,

with your fuzzy head

against my cheek –

asleep after eating, or

napping in the afternoon.

I hold you,

so long and so close,

not wanting to let you go,

even knowing I must,

and the rightness of it.

My mother’s heart knows not

right or wrong,

weak or strong,

joy or sorrow,

but only the longing

to hold you,

ever as lovingly as I am able,

in life and ever after,

if I can,

no matter if,

when I kiss you,

I happen to leave

my lipstick on your cheek.