Immortality. Fearful; aspirational; unreachable. Whether explored through fantastical creatures, sci-fi inventions, or mundane existence, the idea of living forever—or refusing to die—is horrifying and alluring in turn.

I think that’s why it’s always fascinated me. Just like Death, its twin, eternal life can be viewed as a curse, or as a gift. It can grant wisdom or foolishness—or both. Immortality has as many facets as human beings. When illuminated in fiction, it becomes a prism through which to examine the same mortality it so radically eschews.

Putting together this issue, therefore, was an extremely meaningful process for me, and one that I am proud to have been part of. So many phenomenal poems were entrusted to my care. My heartfelt thanks goes out to all who submitted, for the opportunity to read and cherish your work.

The twenty-three poems selected for this issue span time and space. They introduce us to elves, phoenixes, and necromancers, and entangle us with the familiar stories of Peter Pan, Dracula, and Dorian Gray. They take us through spaceships and orchards, pawn shops and parking lots, festivals and graves. Each one provides us with a new facet of that ever-shifting gem of immortality—a moving and abstract target that these poets have nonetheless captured with startling emotion, clarity, and truth.

In particular, we begin and end with two poems about an archivist—submissions which were wholly unconnected, yet turned out to be perfectly in conversation with one another. If anything unites our snapshots of the immortal, it is that theme: the forging and archiving of memory and identity. When life does not cease, how do we remember what matters? How do we remember ourselves, and how do we decide what to forget?

Well, sit back. Relax. Take a deep breath. We’re going to be here for quite a while.