Each time we come to write this editorial for you, we stumble. Asking: what’s the point? What purpose do our words hold in a magazine full of so many far better ones? Does anyone even read this?
That we’ve both ended up here on this page is fortuitous, but maybe we can use this space to help build something a little better. As writers, as witches, as weavers of myth, we make kindling of the bad times, and burn what’s behind us. Or maybe we’re just here to celebrate what’s written on the page, and understand the power of spells in the shape of an essay, a letter or especially a poem.
This issue is full of such beautiful delights, showcasing the precision and lack of artistic inhibition that our poets bring to their work. This time we feature the soft flow of Mari Ness, Ceto Hesperia’s intimate creating of space, Margaret Wack’s third divine poem with us (our second poet to do so), and much more besides.
The world grows darker, but we continue to torch what frightens us in the depth of night. For warmth, for light, and for you.
Hester J. Rook, P. Edda, Liz Duck-Chong & Selene Maris