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.