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.