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.