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.