Birth pains
The pains I had brought when breaking the bonds, you had built with your uterus-glow, not once but over and over, (as if we’d preserved an umbilical bond to slice […]
Author Archives: Björn Rudberg (brudberg)
Darkness even darker
Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again, Daphne du Maurier, Rebecca Sunset is sudden with a tired receding sun cocooning in the clouds. The treacherous moon is absent […]
Woodwind warmth
When summer strings and drums turn silent, still a homeless woodwind section warble, grabs the diligence of man and deer, unchills our forest — tethered to November drab. We shut […]
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 […]
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 […]
