We rode in on the seaweed
when tsunami waves
covered the sand, made
a home beneath the wet
grains waiting to ambush
you and your friends.
We like sweaty bodies,
warm, dark, snug places—
under waistbands, bra straps,
even the little crevices
of belly buttons,
and forbidden bikini lines.
 
You won’t see the results
of our visit until it’s too late.
In return for a taste of your blood,
which we need to reproduce,
we offer prolonged discomfort.
Only when hot shower water
hits your body, will you realize
we were there on the beach
you just came from,
secretly invading
while you rested
innocently on your towel.


© by Carolyn Chilton Casas.
Used with the author’s permission.