After a death
Don’t blame the night for darkness or the rattling bones; it’s not from dusk your blood is shed not from shadows that your ache is born. this blackness didn’t cause […]
Author Archives: Björn Rudberg (brudberg)
Back in Vienna again
Vienna had changed for the better, the colors were brighter but the shadows were still as deep. Pulling down the fedora he lits a cigarette. Contract killing is mostly waiting, […]
Thinking of acorns
I try to hold on to the acorn without thinking how gravity pulls it from tree and how it falls into soil, how it hopes to spur roots, to be […]
Bedsheets
This intimate night is dear to the silver of moon-spill on bedsheets, to the manners of starlight to perfume of sensitive skin; this intimate night has been gifted to us […]
Leather on lace
Gently you claimed me with fire on skin, to fingertips brushing, to sandalwood songs; you guided me slowly to sunrise and sins. Who could you blame if loving is wrong? […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 