Cease to be his Annabelle
She was tethered to the listless shore moored and waiting, lacking buoyancy in briny waves, caressed by swaying kelp her salt and tears, he called her whore and with his […]
Author Archives: Björn Rudberg (brudberg)
Towards the forest
The forest reeks tonight of sulfur vapors and his hands are black. When deep among the trees the bite of what has passed. what wasn’t asked and time that never […]
Making peace with vengeance
Making peace with vengeance is when dinner’s cold for prisoners of golden hair for blue eyes and the molten nights of sinners’ unmade beds. Bedsheets stiff like lizard’s skin neon […]
Forget-me-knots
The yellow in the blue remembers-not the knot inside the fight and nots. it’s never not forget-me-knots. Let’s slip on fingertips what dwells in letters spelled on vellum petals loves-me-not. […]
A glade where grass is warm
The raindrop gently falls but once it’s caught in leaves and grass, his tethered fears, a hymn for spring has faded when the bloom has got its sip, he waits […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 