Easeled lust.
Easeled well, you’re my canvas, girl, you’re chiaroscuro, swirls of umbra whiffs of floribunda, you’re my light in dark, my chocolate. You’re weight- less words, a pillowed wait for spring, […]
Author Archives: Björn Rudberg (brudberg)
No more queues, or I be darned
Spelling spilt in split of hairs i spread your words and sentence letters into sentences make sense and scare your false pretense, as if you say: TOMATO I wonder who’s […]
Lust for blood
The way it looks, in snow with paws between a baby and a bear, brushed with tail, from scattered snow on crust, not melted yet. I know she crossed our […]
The first in first perspective
When I see eyes of children starving, bellies swollen. I wonder if my problem lies in first of first perspective. The I in I, the eye for eye and maybe […]
The music of wait
There’s a melody, a voice of myself: a timbre, a tone a faintness in echo of ash; a footstep that’s planted in stealth in the night, a fading finale, a […]
