His hands are long and spindly;
not brittle, delicate.
He appears to be shaping and connecting the world around us;
flashes of color appear, circling us.
He is a god!
sweeping over some exotic place where colors are not just themselves.
I call to him; ask
how could you be doing this?
how could you be in complete control?
He turns (flicking his fingers, changing purple to orange) as he says
“How could I not be,
and what exactly am I doing
that you cannot?”