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.