Constricted canvas
Suffocating silence, my stumbling syllables a classroom filled, smoldering with energy bright eyed aliens, students not like me. I bend my head sharpened by my pencil: tracing fantasies — faces, […]
Author Archives: Björn Rudberg (brudberg)
a shipwrecked waterway
Like counting pebbles, polished smooth – the ocean waves, are still my beating heart. As granite turns to dust, my liver-spots and blood are moonless nights. Sublime, this siege of […]
Butterfly effect
Sipping syllables — your lips the butterfly effect of thunderstorms, the flutter in my stomach or the logic of imagined constellations. Still I crave your random kisses and I ask […]
Save the earth
What happened here, the woods look brown When trees are dying, who destroys the view? Echo: You What’s that virus, what destroys its soil? Echo: Oil How can I stop […]
Tepid coffee
We were creatures of the night, consuming decadence of prohibition bars, sultry jazz and acid booze; with smoke of cigarettes hanging from your crimson lips we burnt like moths in […]
