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.