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.