WHEN I SLICED MY HEART When I sliced volatile wire; impregnated with white currents of electricity, It spewed out a volley of poignant sparks in tandem; I was stabbed with several impacts of shock; falling like a lifeless pigeon on the ground. When I sliced open obdurate tree bark; embossed with a cluster of rustic root, A slurry of succulent white juice oozed out in emollient abundance; and the tree wept in hidden anguish. When I sliced the belly of the colossal mountain; infinite tones of mud leaked out in frenzy, A cluster of earthworm and rabbit got dismantled; and the once bombastic structure now resembled a beggar in torn rags. When I sliced open the skin of emerald watermelon; rosy pink juice cascaded down with spontaneity, The fruit looked ravishingly voluptuous like never before; with scores of brown seeds tumbling down. When I sliced decayed bones freshly excavated from soil; a finely crushed chowder of calcium flew directly in my eyes, The scenario appeared grotesquely despicable; with nostalgic memories of centuries ago besieging the cool air. When I sliced through the heart of a concrete wall; a series of blatant cracks spread fast like wild fire, The structure now looked insipid and fragile; a battalion of red baked bricks came plummeting down; and broke my scalp. When I sliced scintillating biscuits of yellow gold; an amber tinge incorporated the edge of my knife, The currency proliferated itself with each stroke of mine; and soon I had more pieces of gold than when I commenced slicing. When I sliced through an ocean of loose sand; the blissful assemblage got thoroughly distorted, Bountiful splinters of silver soil hurtled towards my eyes; and there was profuse tearing that incorrigibly followed as an inevitable aftermath. When I sliced open a balloon incorporated with salty cheese; and a fountain of water, An incoherent design of white dots then inhabited my face; scores of flies and cupid ants stuck like true stalwarts to my demeanor.
And when I sliced my heart open with the most sharpest of blade; crimson blood gushed out at exhilarating speeds, It contained bold traces of the girl I immensely loved; the celestial image of the mother from whom I was born.