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.