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.