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.