"Hm."

The sound of consideration is short, simple, as Sinthia cocks her head. "I think I could show you," she says. "The sky. Or a memory of sky, but it's from where I lived. But if I put it in your head it would be like your visual cortex still sees it, it just wouldn't have come from your optic nerve."

Pause. "I think." She's not even going to mention the kissing part.