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.