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.