we scratch-scratched at the door then held our breath and listened to the night's bass hollow rhythm "let us in," we said, cold and spiteful despite grass and that slow whisky burn "let us in," we said again, just a growl returned by the alley monsters she had no voice, lost to her mother's rage and we kissed her scar, closed the door, kissed her jagged, quick white scar again... she put a finger to her lips and we said, "hush?" and she nodded. hush... always hush...
i don't know what to say about this one except that i love it. the idea of being "let in" to the night rather than 'out into' the night is unique and powerful. i find the piece strangely disturbing too. you're usual rhythm and syntax are different. colder maybe. certainly fitting for the tone of the piece, but odd if you've read a lot of your stuff.
I love the title and everything about this piece, I could really feel it and connect to it. That third stanza is beautiful and inspiring.
that just seemed like the easiest way for me to do it i tried, hope it makes sense those are me sugguestions also, i dig the font,
thanks everyone on the critique of this one...it's special to me in a way i can't explain...thanks everyone...it's most appreciated
