by Katie Kemple

My husband wakes early on Sunday,
disappears downstairs to begin
the alchemy of flour, salt and water,
to raise the yeast from the dead,
hand mixing stickiness and then
olive oil all over and over again.
A pan of focaccia pale dough
puckered and bubbling, sea-salt
crusted. In the oven, it makes
the house smell like a bakery.
My legs want to levitate, lift out
of bed, float down the stairs
like a cartoon character, hearts
burst from my brain, eyes wide, 
drool drips on tile. He knows
the secret of waiting to slice,
then to slice in neat rows, knows
to have napkins ready. It’s oily,
gold, salty. We will close our eyes
to savor it like the body of God.  

Katie Kemple is the author of Love in the Key of COBRA, winner of the 2025 Iron Horse Literary Review chapbook prize; and Big Man (Chestnut Review Chapbooks). Her work has appeared in Frontier, Sixth Finch, and One Art. She’s the co-founder of ThePoetryShop.com. More of her work can be found at katiekemplepoetry.com.