Why still ambiguous?
As branches bends for desert winds, close to breaking, and the weight of what I’ve said is slightly less than my mute retort inside. They send me feathers white of […]
Daily Archives: November 24, 2015
Water trapped in bogs
Her sentences where rivers once, meandering through marshlands, building into lakes and rushing rapids, heading for the sea. “Why was I never told, that mother’s dead?” She’s angry once again, […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 