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.