stab a canvas with a knife
and what do you find?
behind the paint and texture
is nothing
but torn canvas.
behind the perfect symmetry
centuries of figure study
symbolism and chiaroscuro
is nothing
but blank canvas.
but beauty is so powerful,
the façade so convincing,
the image captivates the eye
and the mind won't admit
the canvas could be bare.
painting is subjective,
a matter of perspective,
so from what artist
do we derive
our reality?
"doesn't God exist?" you may ask me,
a question meant to function as an answer,
and i'll spare you insincerity.
i'll espouse no set belief
until i've cut the world open and know what's underneath.
is life another Rembrant?
or is it something more?
if i rip apart the sky,
carve off a mountain's peak,
perform a vivisection on an oak,
do I find a vacant canvas,
or another work of art?
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