One night, a boy fell off the Moon.

They called him Gabriel.

He lived two blocks away from me,

and would keep his window open

every night

to try and join the stars together.


He confessed he breathed moonlight

instead of air,

that his bones were made of stardust,

and the dents between his knucles,

were craters.


To people he was Gabriel; the boy who fell.

But in my head,

I called him Moon Boy instead.


— “Moon Boy,” Alaska Gold

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