Your words: perfume
We are like oaks and let our roots entwine; when winter claws, untethered teeth are bared, our hearts beat slowly; closed are chests and shrines. We’re waiting, wishing that our […]
Tag Archives: sonnet
Silver Filigree
I’ve found in you: my songs, my wells of force, you are the breeze and in the way the sand feels warm at dawn; your skin can set the coarse […]
The emptiness of brine
Digesting the disasters of divorce projected to the whirlwinds in your glass of Chardonnay you sipped alone, the morse of slyish slander, raindrop-rumors pass as morsels left of mother’s Sunday […]
Our highway through the sky
We seek direction and the sky is vast your words are braille and the constellations cut our hemisphere in yours and mine to shut the future out; but as the […]
Your icicles
“Let’s mend the bridges – make it as before”, it’s said, it’s out and seconds sway; your eyes suspicious; silence spilled upon the floor in whisper as of ghosts, a […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 