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.