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.