Once upon a time, not too long ago
Every time she kissed me, she had to bend low.
A little red mark;
A piece of her heart,
Remained on my cheek, as she turned to go.
Today, I look down as she tries to lift
Herself up on toes, to bridge the giant rift
That has grown between
A mother and her teen,
Before she settles on a new spot to bestow her gift.