Perfect
Now, do it again.
Perfection isn’t achieved after one flawless attempt
Perfection is repetition until flaws are impossible

So where does that leave me?
One who writes with blemishes
Blot by blot until sanity becomes a matter of perspective

This mosaic feels like a simple stain.
My likeness splattered against reflective glass
My self on display
But not quite me
This is what it’s like when humans do godly things.