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.