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.