& a boy is on a rooftop, dropping a flower
for his friend who jumped off a building.

some say he descended, like rain. some say
he plummeted like an arrow shot from heaven.

all in all, no one ever thought: what if he flew
downwards expecting to be caught? or for a

brief moment, an angel exhaled into his ribs.
there is no twisted logic to this, I promise.

I mean, something is always gnawing at the heart.
the clouds exist to ornament the sky & fill the

earth with a sinking song, such a saint. who knows
the origin of loss? who let sadness outside its box?

what does this say of the body—a wingless entity
destined to fall from the yawning light? we are

either the birds falling from the sky or the ground
catching a dead thing. either way, the boy atop

the roof is a moth in a field of fire.

(Editors’ Note: “moth boy” is read by Matt Peters on the Uncanny Magazine Podcast, Episode 64B.)

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