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.