Undercovered, veiled
encrypted you –
your words are braille on skin.
I’m puppeteered at night,
strained in strings
with bedsheets as from skin,
veiled in hair I’m scissored
curved a spoonful, dreamt.
Fluorescenced: “Are you awake?”
As if ever there would be an edge
between the precipice and you.
It’s neither ice nor fire,
but pressure building you.
It’s more a wish to drown,
to grow gills or wings.
My secret is translucent.
fishblood-wished to share
a breakfast (afterwards),
Fishblood by Gustav Klimt
A secret love or not, yes my dreams are strange sometimes, written for Fireblossom at toads.
Björn Rudbergs writings 
What an utterly beautiful, dream-like poem!
love the wish to grow gills or wings.
I love the way you turn nouns to verbs and the exotic turns of phrases in this. The last stanza is outstanding.
As if ever there would be an edge
between the precipice and you.
Striking, surreal and dreamlike, as our subconscious and all its secrets so often seem when we come to the surface to breathe. Loved it, Bjorn.
Agh! This is stunning poetry, Bjorn. Each line is so perfectly composed, and the flow of thought just excellent. I also love the lines Hedge mentioned above, but really, the whole is superb.
So beautiful, “as if ever there would be an edge between the precipice and you.” Wow. I love the wish “to drown, grow gills or wings.” Exactly.
What an image of such a complicated relationship…the wanting and the wanting to be free.
Absolutely love this:
Fluorescenced: “Are you awake?”
As if ever there would be an edge
between the precipice and you.
Also enchanted with the idea of growing gills or wings. This poem speaks to me like a fairytale — a beautiful dream (and yes, sometimes the strange ones are the most beautiful, I think…) Thanks for sharing.
You are the master of taking the abstract and making it a beautiful read!
Great descriptions…braille on skin and the dreamy feel to the poem.
Wonderful, Bjorn–a new favorite-love Florescenced talking and the fish-blooded edge–fish=blooded somehow much warmer than cold=blooded. Ha. Thanks. k.
I think the wish to share breakfast says it all … the desire for this to be more than lust or passion. And even more than words. Sharing quiet, sharing daytime space … peace, softness, contentment. Breakfast is very symbolic of something that lasts and is seen in daylight.
I echo what everyone else has said – particularly (but by no means only) the insights of autumn shawl.
I was really wrapped up goo in your dream, Bjorn. Secret loves are to dream about, right up through breakfast.
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A beautiful love poem that, for me anyway, seemed to articulate a sense of yearning – without actually spelling it out. Very skillfully rendered – Wonderful words!
Fanning myself… 🙂