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.