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.