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At the Museum Gift Shop Kevin Casey

I hold a lump of amber to the skylight, and the glossy, pumpkin knuckle is a prism in reverse, absorbing fractured light, compressing it to saffron smoldering. But pivoting my wrist to catch the facets etched among the bits of ancient insects I can’t recall the card from the display I’d read not twenty minutes past— how long ago did the giant fern-tree weep that shed this burnished tear? A million years? One hundred? It seems something I should know... Surface-stuck on these fly-paper days, I can’t discern a decade through this lens of frozen honey, let alone some unreal millions. And so back into the bin it goes, silent, its mythical depths still unsounded— just another pretty, semi-precious gem.

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Profile for Apeiron Review

Apeiron Review | Summer 2015  

The summer issue of Apeiron Review, a Philadelphia-based literary magazine, is ready for you and a glass of your favorite beverage. Cool off...

Apeiron Review | Summer 2015  

The summer issue of Apeiron Review, a Philadelphia-based literary magazine, is ready for you and a glass of your favorite beverage. Cool off...