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.