September plums
My father’s birthday was on September 13, and I still remember the year it was time to celebrate his 50th birthday. Guests were soon arriving when my little sister showed […]
Close to parting
Our slow-dance delivered uslazily, but with utmost carecloser, closerto the precipice of parting,so when you simplydelivered me a passive punch,I only felt reliefthat you gifted me goodbye,relieving me of blameto […]
Controlled Comfort
Smothered so softly, slowly, and sadin a seemingly gentle soothing devotion,her home is a prison, a puddle an oceanperfumed with jasmine, roses, and brineconstrained by his claims: “you are mine”she […]
Illusion of enlightenment
Embraced by boughsa clearing is his cave,a cavity of viewpoints,windows both to creedsand devastating dogma,in the forest, thoughtsfind refuge in his home; embraced by booksthe aged librarian sendsroots into the […]
Making my mask
My asylum has a garden where I sometimes walk, pretending that the soothing drugs that storm my veins are the sober bliss of sunshine on my skin, that the bruising […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 