Da Vinci

I painted my mirror.

I dip my brush

in lavender

and lilac,

careful strokes

with reckless hands

until I have a masterpiece.

The bristles are submerged

in royal blue

then

pastel purple;

I layer them onto the mirror

and swear I can feel it breaking

beneath my brush.

It’s rejecting the masterpiece I’m making.

Sunlight plays across it

as a golden tint,

the rays reaching out

to pull my painting from the mirror

and into reality.

I watch it dance

and bask in its beauty

beyond all comprehension,

but even the most beautiful art

only lives

in 2 dimensions.