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.