Here's a good one from Melissa at La Petite Zine: she's enamored of some of my stanzas, but not sure the poems are right for LPZ as a whole. She wants to see more.
Why are rejections like this almost more exciting than acceptances?
Must be something about anticipation, right? Something akin to courtship. Something like how wondering if you're going to be kissed is almost better than actually being kissed. Something like not being able to sleep the night before a big day.