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.