Either you were attempting to replicate Francesca Lia Block, you ARE Francesca Lia Block, or what they say about subconcious mimickry is true. Whatever way it is, this is a brilliant reproduction of Francesca Lia Block's poetic style. At times (she was a girl that was a fire, a light, a rose, a mirror, a needle) you seemed to flirt with plagiarism, but you never really crossed the boundary.
At any rate, this was beautiful. The word choice was brilliant, the imagery was sharp, and it's a theme I've always liked. I could almost imagine these girls.
First, if this is true (and I assume it is) I'm incredibly happy for you. A friend of mine who was gay didn't have nearly as warm a reception. At the age of eight--EIGHT!!--he was chased around and called a fag. Even his mother wasn't particularly understanding, he said she claimed she "wasn't prejudiced," she "just didn't think it was a healthy lifestyle." I know for a fact that they were very close (she's a single parent), so maybe he was trying to protect her. Maybe not. But either way, I'm very happy your friends were understanding. If one my children (well, I'm too young to have children. Future children) came out, I want them to have as much love as they would otherwise. I know my brother and I will never have that privilege.
No offense to you, but I never expected a poem about a horse to be moving. It's not that I dislike horses, but most horse poems are overemotional and cliched. This, however, was stunning. The detail is remarkable, and the emotion is very real. I find myself wondering how I would feel, just SUSPECTING that I may not have said goodbye.
This was incredible. A beautiful story with very real emotions. I wish you would turn it into a novella so I can see the pain in detail, but that's the only way this could be better--it's just stunning.
Both the size of this and the skill with which this is written makes it difficult to give a truly adept review, but this was stunning. I love the brevity of it--you could easily have written forever about sorrow, but a short and sweet poem from your daughter's point of view is so much more meaningful. Lines such as "I'm only seen on a cold clear night" conveyed your sorrow in such a simple, understated, and lovely way. I'm very sorry for your loss, and I hope you (and your husband) are able to move on. In the mean time (and even afterwards) keep writing! It helps.
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