You are red, and anything but exact

          But you are incredibly precise.

From afar, you’re cohesive but bland,

          A single large rectangle, a single shade of red.

But I looked closer.

          You are not only red.

You are blood, scarlet, burgundy, rose.

          Your strokes are visible, careful but imperfect.

Your shadows are painted on to make you seem three dimensional

          But you already are.

The End

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