Dear Cami Park,

I never knew you personally or even about your online writing presence until it was too late. It’s already been a year or so after your passing, and it was Anaïs who first introduced me – she wrote a tribute to you on her blog about how much she misses you and your words, how she’s still in disbelief that there won’t be anything new. Since then, I’ve gone through your archives several times and have voraciously eaten up all of your short short fiction and poetry. And, since then, your words still linger in my mind from time to time. It was pretty extraordinary how immediately taken in I was. You were colorful, you were haunting, you were even hilarious. From reading all the other comments and tributes, I wasn’t entirely alone in the way I felt, and it’s obvious how you were a big supporter of other online writers as well.

It’s a shame I never got to speak with you. Nonetheless, I still miss you anyway. I miss the fact that I never got to know you, and I miss the fact that there will be no more writing. I miss the fact that I will never be able to have a book of yours on my shelf.

Your poem, “Eating Heart,” seems so eerily relevant now, in retrospect:

Rare is best. Let it
hit fire, and it becomes tough,
ill-intentioned.

A still-beating heart
imparts an unrealistic optimism. Its
flavor will be strong, of blood
and salt.

The heart that lies like a stone
in your hand should not be used
for cooking—

Bury it in the farthest corner
of the yard. Place over it a large rock,
to protect the animals.

When you awaken with a pain
in your breast, you know your heart
is almost done. Serve with rosemary,
for remembrance.

Some other favorites of mine:
1. Windowers
2. Slut Whore
3. Everyone the Same But Not at Once

Thanks for your words, Cami. Your writing will always have a special place at this blog.