I, who have never known love
like this for my kinfolk
in a burning world
I’m tired of loneliness
rewiring this brain, tired
of wasting time waiting for
the skies to clear, waiting
for a turn, waiting for the urge
to pass. Here, let me share
this bread I baked, this salt,
this god only a body can
understand, I love you, here
is a cup of tea, your coffee
with maple syrup, the way you like it
I love you, I made you soup, hungry
for a kind of closeness like wilderness
of hair inside a fist, so violent
it matters, so urgent the body
starts to remember winter turning
to womb, I am here, crowning
fully toothed and praying
to the new mother, I
who have never loved anyone
the way I love this burning world.

Andreea Ceplinschi is a Romanian immigrant writer, photographer, graphic designer, waitress, and kitchen witch. Her writing spans poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction, featured in Solstice Literary Magazine, One Art, Bulb Culture Collective, The Quarter(ly), Bicoastal Review, JAKE the anti-literary magazine, Does It Have Pockets, and elsewhere. You can learn more about her at www.poetryandbookdesign.com or on her Instagram: @loveliketheproletariat.