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.