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.