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.