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.