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.