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.