LUCAS DE LIMA | all the bottoms of the universe rise up

all the bottoms of the universe rise up

in planetary sickness & health

the spirits of civets, porcupines, turtles lay in wait

when the virus traverses

our rainbow of species.

the brush razed, a shrill cry in the zenith

we open our mouths to inhabit the cry

we take in the dead from morning till night

the rats & bats encircle us like ghouls

we try to stave off their flying flesh but

everyone needs a host in their life.

we get it

this is why we diversify.

we open our bodies to the virus to each other & everything else

a circular arc

a disintegrating forest

the rainfall of blood where we

once killed & ate.

as we chug sunlight thru our holes

legs in the air

our faces crack like multicolored plates

& thru an airborne spectrum

we birth the children who infect us

& when our leaders fall with the canopy, wheezing alone in their beds

our rainbow links up with the undergrowth

we gather within us the souls of the wet market

of the hospital

of the places without hospitals

to catch the dead from morning till night

we web the sky with our fabric of tears

we cry out with the roots

all day