2 min read


In Another Life


In another life, I can write a poem

that doesn’t punish me.


I learn how to look at the world, 

to see through empty spaces, 


wishes that remain unfulfilled, 

my grandfather’s solitude behind closed doors. 


Slowly, I realized why 

the mad painter tore the portrait 

of his beloved that never loved him back. 


For the past months, grief has cradled me to sleep 

with a tune– how sweetly she sings with 

tender pauses for me to fill in. 


And I realized not every absence is devoid of love. 

I can speak a language that does not blister my tongue, 


magnolias do not wither, 

mothers no longer cry for their lost children. 


In this life, I look at the sky asking 

will I ever be whole. I realized when 


when you clasped your hands, reciting a prayer to 

not walk on those who love you.


In another life, in the bleak mid-winter, 

I no longer worship your longing. 


The magnolias bloom again by the thought 

that you once loved me, the wind carries me to you.


In another life, there will be no clocks.

You will never feel cold again.



Grief

I


You crawl out of the jaye namaz,

scratching at my ankles.

It’s been a while since I thought of you.

II


The end is endless,

like a verse I keep misquoting,

folded back into itself.

III


Grief is a discipline.

I return to it daily,

kneel, rise,

leave you exactly where you were.




Momina Raza is a Lahore-based poet with an MPhil in English Literature from Kinnaird College for Women. A finalist for the 2025–26 Pakistan Youth Poet Laureate program, her work appears in The Aleph Review, Borderless, and Jashn Anthology Vol 2. Translated into Hindi in Golchakkar, her poetry explores longing, grief, desire, faith and identity, and she has performed at Lahore Literary Festival and Lakeer Kahaniyaan.


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