top of page



I exist between the lines

fall asleep in a yellow sea shell

in hope my whispers will be heard


I travel

step by step

and look for light

a sun kissed mesa

touching me

jumping fields of corn

touching you


I stop (every now

and then) fill brown soil layers

with unspoken words

in case one day you might start digging


I see landscapes

made of how I didn’t stay long enough

of how I released too quickly

too often, too long

for you to ever know

of how I see you everywhere

in animals and in plants

in every breath I come across


I suspect you still exist somewhere

hidden, not buried

deep inside the Earth

and floating all around

Ragnheiður Erla Björnsdóttir

bottom of page