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.