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.