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.