a drip of moonlight on your cheek

the sound of flies buzzing between lips­­­­
thick brown regrets stained with whiskey
around your neck, eye lids stick

head hung low, watching your feet
hovering above the sullen grass,
next to your oxfords, Rolex and wallet,
arranged in a row like a yearly gift

with a toppled wooden stool on the left
the tree branch wrestled with your weight
fingers still grasping the hem of your shirt, but
you couldn’t wait until the light hit the earth.