World like a White Stomach, Red Optional

My world is not round
and so it does not move in circles
like your world.
It is so small I stand above it, my head in space,
while a two-colored rainbow stretches out in my wake—
a straight line which is an echo
of my unbent trajectory into the universe.
Three navels has my world
for the three births it delivers us to:
into this world, within and out of it.
Each is an adventure more easily seen
in a straight world where everything
is not always repeating itself.
Here, fish swim out of the water.
Birds more commonly walk.
And in the distance, we see colors
not of our world.
Stop and go.
The green of earth.
The red that is only an option as we look away,
searching for the million worlds beyond.

The Daily Post Prompt: One day, your favorite piece of art — a famous painting or sculpture, the graffiti next door — comes to life. What happens next?