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.