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.