Insomnia
Your scent is moon, a song of lilies left at night; you’re whispered pages torn from notebooks, memories; you’re my rage, insomnia, the emery of finger- prints as left on […]
Category Archives: dVerse
The end was just beginning
She was a melody, a flute She was the voice of skylarks at the breaking point when summer’s close to spring. Her hands were doors to other doors a dream […]
He can only speak in poetry
He always thought that bridges could be built as essays (unabridged). That if he listened — after- wards he’d be allowed to speak his mind. “It’s like crossing ridges — […]
A silent boy
I was a quiet boy who liked to draw, construct, create. Often I withdraw from my boisterous baby sister who filled the rooms with shrieks and laughter. But left alone […]
weightless dreams of winter’s past
any journey starts not with the initial step but through fantasy in finding inner blessings purpose of a life in a travel companion living with planning tracing paths with fingertips […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 