3. Megha Harish



I am mid-air

right in the space between the layers of the atmosphere

I used to know those words

are they stratosphere mesosphere?


In the space between spaces

where the air is too thin to breathe

the sunlight too harsh

all burn, all dry.


Like the over toasted slice of bread

Inedible lifeless crumbling away

like my resolve to send those texts

why eating breakfast alone without conversations

about perfect buttering, optimum cheese to ham ratios backspaced off the screen

bitten back from the call.


No breathing

no moving

that is when you know you exist.


Suspension of the bodily functions

Brings a sudden jarring awareness

of the body itself

an acute observation of its absence.


Like this half of the bed uncrumpled,

the now lonely toothbrush in the glass above the sink why sleeping alone and no longer

seeing happiness through an eyelash curtain of sleep dust

backspaced off the screen

bitten back from the call.


When this cloud dissolves,

and memories evaporate,

the body will fall

and falling



will feel again  like



That is why I am so busy,

working my way downwards.