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.