It was in the death of autumn

when Bravado came to me

as a lover.

Warning me not spare you

courtesy.


Disdained for leaving you hissing

through my garden like a snake,

spewing venom into thorns

for the way, I’ve taken back my life.


I’ve been revived in a skin

you cannot claim.

Do not bother searching this soil.

There’s nothing in me

left for you.