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.