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.