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.