Yours is my inquest
Fusing for tempests — are you waiting — are you baiting me for sparks? Am I excused — for eardrums I’ve bruised — for willows and wind — for sorrow […]
Tag Archives: darkness
brimstone abstinence
Darkly this tempest is blowing listless and compressing midnight to obsidian shards; we’re sworn obsessiveness, doomed in a sootiness of chimneys broken, to icicles hurled against our soil. Dreaded, this […]
My alabaster idol
My path is wrapped in bramble breathing is a heavy cart shade like shadow at the edge of night; f a l l i n g footsteps fall behind: persistent […]
My crave is not a butterfly
My crave is hunger hard as granite — carved with sin, it’s dark and cellar-dank My crave is heavy: rotten wood, it’s headstone letters — lichen-filled it’s senseless skin it’s […]
The scar of pearls
Darkly overhead on wings of dead-and-gone to woods where feeble ferns are teeth, and tongues where from the drying throats: a suitors’ voice a praise of clay and stone, demanding […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 