when you gave it your whole heart the
baked porcelain shards you picked up from the kiln
tell you
there really was so much there
too much
so much moisture that it expanded too quickly
too fast and you exploded
landed over by the thermocouple
hit the reflective coding at the top of the kiln and
was hurled down to the corner
that pieces of you even hit the center, too
and that others landed over the vases other artists had fired along with yours to bake

your whole heart did not rip or break: it blew open


fell into every part of the kiln, ate space and unwillingly
in a burst realized  expansions