Imitation

My existence is confined to a canvas far larger than any other here. My sheer size alone is enough to justify my reputation, merely an inch away from the corners of the white wall I am hung upon. Even so, I am less than nothing compared to the size of what I am meant to emulate. I blush rose pink at my center, the faintest hint of yellow and white blending with the pink only to become a light purple as I swirl outwards asymmetrically. The purple, barely even there, fades further into the darkest of blues. This blue consumes most of me only for it too, to be consumed by an overwhelming black. From the blue and black, more colors emerge, blending with the background at first before boldly pronouncing themselves to the onlooker. Clouds of red burst forth to mix with orange. The blue, itself, dares to become lighter, forming swirls of its own in one corner of me, mingling with a shock of electric green. I am covered in specs of white, some with the slimmest outline of gold and silver to reproduce a shine I can never truly know. Yet even I, in my boldness and beauty, hold a secret from all who gaze upon me. Amongst the pink hues of my core, I am home to a minuscule figure. The silhouette of a woman that many eyes have passed over but none have seen. I am the imaginings of a man who looked at his love beneath the endless cosmos and thought them equal. I am life and life is me. And so, we imitate each other.