New moon

new moon
by paolo macariola

dawns awakens above us
a vast neon blue
spilling across oceans
as did our happiness

until twilight came
and colored our guilt
we try to measure what we see
with our emptiness
imitating the foolish sky

but everything darkens
when the world fades to black
the moon weeps
it haunts us

defining commas

"defining commas"
by paolo macariola

sometimes i forget
to pause at the commas
and maybe take a deep breath
everytime i read that old letter of yours,

the same way i stop
for a fleeting moment
to catch a glimpse of you
before our lips challenge embers.

strange, how a mark
made with the faintest sleight of hand
could resemble the ocean's silent longing
for the sun,

as any body of water
such as the raindrop
awaits that certain ray of light
to forge a rainbow,

as any star
endures the day
to breathe in
the first whisper of a night.

and thus i learned:
a comma is a gate
of pauses that slowly opens
to reveal its true intent,

it is the gap which fills the absence
within another absence.
an assumption of something
to come. a prolonged adlib

that delays the climax
of a tragic ending
and a definite farewell
of conclusive defeat.

then it came to me
that maybe this emptiness
is your heart's true intent.
and it ends,