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.