Editor's Note:

Regaining a density that oulled it from the sky, down toward the earth. a single word witched, split and burst into 260 pages. This word a Prosaic prompt: planted in the brain as a kernel, a plum, a fist, around which a husk, a skin, a hand could wrap itself began to leak beyond the confines of its name, spilling more than cloud. If I told you what this word was, you might find the red thread of it following a needle, pushing into and out through the surface of each of the following pages. But where is the fun in that? Why say the word once, when we Can gesture toward it a thousand times. Here, we take the writer Lucienne Bestall's lead (page 14), seeking a more aural and diffused sense of things.

The word is prismatic anyway; distorting in the bent light of fictional narratives, the particularities of iche obsession, nascent forms, chosen media, hidden interiorities and subjective intents. However, if we hold this prism to the eye, we can peer more closely, beyond the surface of the word, perhaps through toward a greater, more surprising legibility and, like visual artist Kamyar Bineshtarigh (page 229), begin, unintentionally, to find more permanent things in intentionally impermanent places.

This second issue of Gnossienne is intended to be read only by those interested in the place of encounter, the fact that nothing ever really touches anything else, and the knowledge that on the odd occasion, when they do, they are inclined to fall immediately in love.

The warmest thanks for every submission received, every permission granted, every question answered and every comma revised.

Until we meet again.