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.