LUW Press - Utahs Best Poetry & Prose 2022

Utah is famous for many things. Our powdery snow, our many state and national parks, our fry sauceand our storytellers.

Whether or not every Utahn knows it, we are all spoiled by the number of poets, authors, journalists, essayists, and other wielders of the written word in our communities. These writers capture the weight of history, the emotions of the present moment, and visions for the future. They pass these moods along to readers worldwide and leave a lasting mark on everyone they touch.

In this first-annual collection, youll find poems, stories, and personal essays which exemplify the immense amount of talent here in the Beehive State. Throughout the selection process, these powerful Olive Woolley Burt Award winners made me smile, cry, laugh, and most importantly, feel proud to be a member of Utahs writing community.

I hope you enjoy them as much as I did.

- Caryn Larrinaga

Trigger Warning: Suicide

Sunshine gets up from the bed. Perfume wafts through the air, a subtle scent with the hint of lilac. I appreciate her fake name. It feels like a sales tactic when a companion gives a legitimate-sounding one. Then again, I have no room to judge false pretenses.

Im glad I found Sunshine. Her whole demeanor reminds me of Gema, not just her full figure, pale complexion, and blonde hair. When she walked in with fire-red lipstick and a dress pulled straight from a pin-up magazine, I knew she was the one. Ive called on her ever since.

Sunshine blows a kiss before heading to the dresser. She takes the production of it all seriously, making efforts to not break the illusion.

I turn over, barely able to keep my eyes open. I shift my attention to memories, continuing my search for Gema. My hope is to find her in the margins, the moments between sleep and wake. I dont just want to find her there. I need to. Every night I fail to find her, our time together fades a little more. Eventually, itll shrivel into nothing. Like we were never together at all.

The sleeping pills start to kick in, keeping me from moving. But the awake self doesnt want to give in to the sleeping self. Not quite yet.

Since Gema has been gone, I havent been able to fall asleep without assistance from medication. Consequently, it makes the window between sleep and wake shorter. I have less time to wander through the memories, trying to find one that sticks.

Were in front of a bridge. Its on a beach somewhere along the coast. I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her close to me. The heat of her breath brushes against my cheek. A gust of wind blows her hair, and it gets caught in the stubble of my beard. Im sure if I explored the moment further, I could recall details like time and place. But thats not what matters. The smell of ocean air mingles with that familiar aroma.

I miss Gemas scent. I sniff the air until I find a hint of lilac. It reminds me of her. Thats why I ask Sunshine to wear the perfume. Gemas image materializes in the faded light of my closed eyes. I nestle deep into the memories, trying to evoke her arrival.

The opening of a dresser, the clanking sounds. Sunshines care has made this not a routine but a ritual. She places Gemas things around the room. Little things. Hair ties, foundation, a little silver necklacea ten-dollar sterling silver chain with a star pendant. A cheap little trinket that didnt mean anything. Until it did.

She didnt ask me if Id buy it for her. There wasnt even a thank you. She just slipped it onto the counter of the bodega next to my bottled water.

Gema walks a few steps ahead of me. I dont know when we stopped walking side by side, but at some point in our relationship we got used to going at our own pace, letting the other person catch up when theyre ready.

The ruffles of her poofy, black-and-white-checkered dress bounce up and down like a hula hoop. She walks too fast to successfully close her necklace. Her fingers fumble with the clasp, pushing aside her curly, blonde hair. Her gait slows, and I catch up. I tap her on the back with my free hand. Holding my bottled water with three fingers, I take hold of the necklace, trying to do the clasp while she continues walking. The bottle touches her back, and she cringes from the cold. She stops long enough for me to secure the necklace around her neck. She leans into me, and I close my eyes. All I have to do is open them, and Ill be able to see her face.

Something pulls me away from the memory.

Sunshine slips back into the dress she arrived in. She tries to be quiet about doing the zipper, which only accentuates the noise. Or maybe shes doing it on purpose, so I can hear the sound without waking completely.

The room in my mind transforms. The place that used to be our room but is now my room. I scan further and further back in the memories as if Id pressed the rewind button on a remote control.

Its the first time I've laid on this bed. We were practically strangers, and it was still her room. My mind races as the water runs in the bathroom. What if she changes her mind? What if she doesnt come back? Was it presumptuous to undress? Heavy petting and rough kisses aside, its our first date. What if she sees me here in just my underwear and asks what the hell Im doing?

The water shuts off. The light from under the door disappears. The door opens, and my body tingles with anticipation.

A sliver of moonlight peeks in from the almost-fully-drawn curtain. As she walks closer, I only see parts of her body at a time. I see her thighs first as she saunters toward me. Then her hands, fingers playing with the tie of her silk robe. I can feel her weight on the bed and see her belly button surrounded by the folds of her robe and the lace of her underwear. The contours of her body peek through the light brown fabric, cleavage exposed as she slowly pulls the robe open. Next, her round chin, then her bottom lip, her bright red lipstick striking against her pale, white skin.