Dark days and darker nights
The serpent moon drowns in the words, whispered too hushed to be heard; she dies in the shadows of ink from the pen he had drained; while tying his pains […]
Category Archives: dVerse
Hollow self
The hollow in your pillow, is a void still warm, an echo of the dreams we shared but split in two. You only saw yourself, while the only voice I […]
Widowmaker
Billy Bold is on a mission, crossing the desert on his horse with no name. For two days the range of mountains had sometimes been floating closer, sometimes heat-hazed it […]
Talking to books
Bound within you keep your worlds, riddle-inked and layered paper-thin, guarded by librarian loyalty until your words are ferociously freed in prose of verse: the nightshade burning veins or blossom-scent […]
Joyful Epitaph
I lit a candle for November’s spirit, not mourning this, its timely death. He left us dressed in drizzle-grey to dig his grave in rotting leaves, alone, least loved among […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 