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.