Us is one
A sugar rush of touch as butter- flies this rub of you, a wetness — cadence skin to skin this morning breath to chest. I weave my fingers with your […]
Author Archives: Björn Rudberg (brudberg)
Being Ernest
Elephant Island, April 24 1916 Dearest Emily, If you ever read this letter, you probably know that we have perished at sea. Unworthy, I have always loved you; but only […]
Mileva
You used to talk with me as equal, in terms of curves, derivatives equations, and the delicacy of a molecule in motion. Our dinner once was made from chalk, reductions, […]
The puppeteer
How can anything be said in other tongues than mine, still sticky from your stolen honey? How can anything be told in any other books than mine once inked in […]
Seeking shelter
We’ve learnt is to fear the feathers of the sky. You might think the sky is perfect, a perfect blue, but if it’s marred by cirrus clouds, the wind will […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 