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.