familiar feelings
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There is a namethat still knowshow to surprise my heart. Years disappearbetween conversations,until suddenly— there you are. My phone lights up. My pulse stumbles. And somehow,at thirty,I smilethe same wayI did at fourteen. Some people thinkbutterflies belongto teenagers. They’ve never waitedyearsfor a familiar nameto appearacross a screen.
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Nobody noticesthe tiny smile. The one that appearsbefore I even readwhat you’ve written. It’s automatic. Uninvited. As though my heartrecognizes your namebefore my eyes do. Maybe that’swhat memory is. Not rememberingthe words. Rememberinghow someonemade you feel.
Between Bruises and Blooms 