My pennyworth gains
Like a praying mantis the creature plague my nights, that creature of the dark, that creature licks my clotting blood, the creature that I love. Each night her dreadful dancing […]
Tag Archives: whirl
From Solitude bereft – a slanted sonnet
she laughs insanely at those urgent needs and smile at dying pigeons from the north her mate composed reports of serpent’s death with fingertips that fluttered from remorse she’s stuck […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 