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.