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