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.