Ashes
Now it’s ashes, kept: burned your letters afterwards — your essence, attar, frankincense — left in the hollow of my pillow, a single strand of hair. I fell asleep with […]
Category Archives: Real Toads
Re: Your updated businesscard
I am Supreme knight of the fictitious spreadsheet. Principal powerpoint scrambler. Head of the pencils and notebooks. Your technician and dreamer. I am First of diluters and tutor in dubious […]
Tea leaves and leaving
When you are dazed in your shadows of jasmine; how can you tell the tea leaves to settle to telltales? how can you trust tea leaves to know about parting. […]
The gold that was spilled
“I am my own muse. I am the subject I know best. The subject I want to better.” ― Frida Kahlo Cramped in this corset, with aches in my column […]
Falling
The falling’s suggestive, a promise of glitter, but after what’s festive you pick up the litter. The falling is heaven, a rush of impressions, you count up till seven before […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 