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.