D Larissa Peters

Specifics

 I remember everything and nothing,

when my brother died.

I couldn’t keep track of the outside world, but I know

just how the chain of the swing felt—cold against my bare leg,

shorts too short for January.

I remember the smell of metal, covering over

the smell of hospital clean mixed with gravy and stale urine.

Every heart disaster after followed this pattern … a friendship lost

re-enters consciousness with the berry flavor of sangria, a melody

threading through my meal, my break ups

marked by the soft peripheral rustle, crisp dried rose petals

hanging upside down on the side of my fridge

crunching every time I lean against the counter. Everything but nothing

at all of importance reminds me in the crack of the moments of my years.

Seeds

You’re my dandelion wish—on a hot

summer’s day, lawn mower buzzing —

coughing bright yellow spots,

foggy billows on stems

I used to wish for a million dollars

because I knew someone like you

would never come along.

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D Larissa Peters grew up in Indonesia and has been somewhat of a nomad. After meandering around the East Coast for more than 10 years, she now resides in California. Her recent published poems have appeared in Blue Villa, Honey Guide Magazine, Suspended Magazine alongside a few forthcoming pieces elsewhere.