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.