Moonlack
Without its moon the night walks by forlorn and passes slowly on its drowsy lead-feet moaning ash-cloaked to the graveyard up above. Without its moon the night and I are […]
Category Archives: Real Toads
Favorite Perfume
The top-note when we met was an essence creamed from honeysuckle, it was from lavender and lily we fell and next we traded years of heart-notes whiffs of forest pines […]
Sense of you
Sense, sweet sense and you — You immense suspense of innocence You, my scent of myrrh and frankincense, come dance with me, commence gyrations, sting vibrations, be obscene on me, […]
The turning point
Imagine words as origami and fold your syllables to paper planes or crease them into cranes. Imagine paper to be sacred with those words released from windows to be shared. […]
Lechery
Work my fire, light my darkness, raise my freezing bones from ash and pyre. Boil my blood, and skin my senses, dance me sleepless. sweat me midnight dizzy wrap me […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 