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.