Language always fails (me). But, infatuated as I am with the material of poetry — unruly words, ephemeral reflections, a riot of passion — there is nothing to do but try, always.

Here we all try, in concert, to say love and mean something queer and fantastic. And in that collective trying, perhaps we’ve built something larger than success or failure. Perhaps we’ve built something as messy and gorgeous and transformative as love.

— Tamiko Beyer