Between Bruises and Blooms

There is a name
that still knows
how to surprise my heart.

Years disappear
between conversations,
until suddenly—

there you are.

My phone lights up.

My pulse stumbles.

And somehow,
at thirty,
I smile
the same way
I did at fourteen.

Some people think
butterflies belong
to teenagers.

They’ve never waited
years
for a familiar name
to appear
across a screen.