little things

What is seen without the eyes? What is tasted without the tongue? What is smelt through ears and heard on skin?

The little things. The refractions. Tiny ripples in perception lost in the barrage of rich information.

What if you could only taste without your tongue? Grab a chunk of prime rib in between your fingers and squeeze; listen to the echo of its long lost beating heart; feel the distant shadow of its warm and grass-stained breath.

Would you feel disabled, incomplete, distant? Or would the richness of experience drawn from ephemeral peripheral hints of meaning distill life pure?