Cockroaches of the sea
with a sting, jellyfish swarm
near our shore
and ones in Spain, Australia, Japan.
If it really is survival 

of the fittest and the bees keep dying
inland, I need to fall 

in love with a faceless
marauder, need to embrace
a new kind of welt the way I used to embrace
you and your luxurious, endangered
kisses on the rock 

studded beach, now closed
for the rest of the summer. First, yellow
flags for caution,
then red to say no
to swimming in the rip current, and now this blue. 

They are invisible
till it’s too late.  Should I have let you
bite me
the way you asked? Why
didn’t you just do it without waiting for permission? Why 

didn’t we ignore the red flags,
let the pull and drag
determine our next move? You weren’t
a very good swimmer.  This is why I must
learn how to love all over again. 

You were better
with bees in the field, protected
by a wooded hillside of Pine and Lady Slippers.