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.