Kitchen Massacre

The roasting Sun dances on sharpened steel blades slicing delicate skins. Blood-red stains spread as flesh is cut open and exposed. Innocent fruits flung from the wooden slab into oily flames as hot as hell. Silent screams sizzle while salt is added to the wounds. Identical, Italian flour soldiers, cut and moulded perfectly, are ready to be sacrificed. Colliding in burning waves they drown. In a terracotta pot, perfumed leaves tremble and fear their fate. Ripped from succulent stalks. An instant death. Cool, calm ceramic, on pure white linen - the final resting place. Buried under grated, crumbling yellow earth and tiny, cracked, black fiery rocks.