Thursday, May 23, 2013


This is for all the people I’ll never meet. 
 This is for the person I might have kissed had I taken a different subway line
on Saturday and the person I might have been
 if that boy hadn’t broken my mother’s teenage heart. 
This is for the people I would have loved if last winter hasn’t been so cold and for the city 
I would have called home if I had written haikus on napkins 
and carried pens in dress pockets and in the knots of my hair. 
This is for who I was, who I am, who I might be. 
This is for you.


 Camryn Pulaski 


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