The Ecstasies of Sense
by Dan Gerber
If there’s any former life inside
this almost transparent, honey-
colored cube of amber, it’s
too small to see, except for a
few tiny bubbles of ancient air, even
through a 10x loupe, just
the gold clarity that, looking,
brings a sweetness to the
buds of my tongue and the
glands of my cheeks,
to make them want the
taste of this parallax clarity,
warmed to the color of the
nothing I see.