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.