LYING           
          IN    MY   ROOM,          
  ARMS FLOPPED OVER THE EDGE OF THE BED. 
     SOMETHING  POKING  MY LEFT  HAND, 
                 SOMETHING      SLIMY, 
      SLITHERING  AROUND  THE FINGERS, 
           UP   THE   ARM.          
 IS  IT  DRUG-FUELED   APATHY?         
         I   DON'T   MOVE   THE   ARM. 
                                 
 WHATEVER IT  IS THAT'S TASTING ME,    
 IT    MOVES   FURTHER   UP,           
 REACHES    THE    ARMPIT.             
 I  TURN   MY  HEAD  TOWARD  IT.       
            LOOKS    LIKE    SEAGRASS. 
         IT'S  KINDA   CUTE.        
                                 
      ONCE  IT'S  UP MY NECK AND ON MY 
 FACE,    I    BITE    IT.             
     THE  TEXTURE  IS  LIKE  THAT OF A 
 JUICY                          GRAPE, 
     AND THE SQUISH  TASTES LIKE SWEET 
                     CUCUMBER.     
    IT'S VERY  GOOD.    AND I    
 SUCK   MORE   OF    IT   IN.          
             CHEW   IT.             
    THE SEAGRASS DOESN'T SEEM TO MIND. 
                                 
     APATHY   GONE,   I  SIT  UP.     
     THE TENDRILS ARE  STUCK UNDER    
   MY  SHIRT,    ENTERING BY THE  ARM 
 AND  EXITING  THROUGH  THE  COLLAR.    
    THIS MAKES IT HARD  FOR ME TO  PUSH 
 MORE   OF   IT   IN   MY   MOUTH.      
   I MAKE TO REMOVE THE SHIRT,  BUT THE 
 SEAGRASS  FINALLY PROTESTS WHEN I TRY TO 
 MOVE     MY    LEFT     ARM.           
     SO  -   EATING   IT  IS  OK,     
        MOVING IT  IS NOT.