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.