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.