Leap into the void
The oxide of my burnished heart has formed a polished pupa to protect me from your vitriol and vice, but still — inside it aches without the blaze of zeal […]
Monthly Archives: November 2019
Flowerfed
From first person plural When we were flowerfed and mosssshoed moved on sun-stained streets, we never thought of starlit winter’s snow and how much its whiteness seemed like corpses in […]
My winter howl
I’m your moon-howl princess, dearest to the darkness, your mistress lady-paw of claw-fanged specter, I will never let my snowscape motherhood of finest fashion-fur be lost to rifled forestry and […]
Morning Potion
Carefully Giselle ground Blue Mountain beans, brewed them to perfection and it was ready just as Mark rushed down the stairs. He took the cup, leaving without goodbye. Discussions yesterday […]
Waltz in minor key
As a bough, heaving from the weight of snow, the aged librarian reaches to the lowest shelf for the omnibus volume of 20th century poems, certain to find the flawless […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 