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.