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.