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.