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.