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.