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.