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Three Winter Poems by Pragya Bhagat

Updated: Dec 8, 2021

Artwork by Anne Archer


i long for you. i am a river of longing. do you know what it’s like to stretch and flood until you are filled with everything but yourself?

i am remembering now. it is taking me time, but i’m enjoying it, the moonwalk to your smell. carrot cake, lemon zest. cheese. sweat.

everything is ferment, everything is frozen. the air sticks, my hair sticks, this chair sticks, we are sticks, you and i, once bound, now chipped, not fallen but resting, not bored but building.

i remember now. the cold wipes the sky clean, the earth buries her head between her thighs. skin prickled with winter, i turn to you sunflower style, but you are not interested in gardens anymore.

what do you long for? body, place, or time. love, truth, or prayer.

i wither, but only an inch. i thought it would hurt more. it seems final, like a start or an end, but not everything slices neat.


the sun finds us in winter

when my fingers find yours

and we choose to get lost

sharing heat under trees

telling stories beneath sheets

weighed with our dreams

this is what it’s like

to be the light

to be the light

i’m lost

i’m lost

don’t come and find me

this coat is a cup

this coat is a cup

warm, grey

a sleeve for the things that jiggle inside

a crack in its shell

winter on skin

sharp fracture

makes me think of mother

of home

Pragya Bhagat is a spoken word poet, essayist, and author of two books. She is the founder of The Poetry Circle, where strangers and friends meet every other Wednesday in North Goa to read, write, and listen to poetry. Follow her work on Instagram at @bhagatpragya.

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