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Oxygen wasn't the only disaster that befell the earth — Canisia Lubrin After the ides of March, we didn't beware. We waited for a second coming when a plague claimed the earth. Rapture broke out from the throats of the unaware. Suddenly, the earth's plane crusted an atmosphere of no trustworthy oxygen, & parents put on their masks first; children baptized their hands with alcohol to feed on their mothers' fear. Inri lost members to the new hygiene god in town; to 14 days silent prayers cowering their throats. …it was sudden and suspicious; the coroners couldn't account. We that stayed indoor painted figments of fear over our doorsteps, We that went outside wore spacesuits on earth, queued upon the tiny threads that connected breath & death, also witnessed people flu off the fragile ropes. We that didn't have a home fed on our fingernails, behind street curtains. Fields couldn't ridge more bodies and funeral workers didn't get to embalm fresh corpse; to detect that the scars on the bodies of the dead settled for our hearts. We garbaged them to knock celestial doors for more rooms themselves- because a candle ignited for them could double our wicks' furnace. …something was questionable; the white-collar coroners couldn't tell. We couldn't coronate the efforts of the masked heroes at hospitals enough- how they ran into the familiar wars in victim's throats to extend olive branches, also, those with us at home without masks but wore warmth & smiles. After valentine came quarantine, little children don't reach out their hands for adults' the world hibernates under Nokia's dark mode. Nature goes nude and wild under no one's voodoo, Every beauty posture involving the human face is a crime scene longing for count-ups of victims' statistics. Shaking, whispering, kissing too are prohibited to lovers, 'cos self-betrayal and death, now take new forms.