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.