The heavens buzz betwixt my finger tips, and the stars hover in my palms. I can almost cradle them. My fingernails waltz gingerly against its radiant light, and His presence rings silently around the room. I’m on Mars. He’s not speaking, but I can hear him. Lavender pulses blue through my veins and wraps my mind in stillness, but something is missing. My heart. My body sways in His present serenity. Blue. But my spirit is deaf and disconnected. My mind is bent on the ethereal realm, but my body pulls against it towards you. When she moans she talks to angels, but in her quiet she’s hugged in broken virtue.