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.