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.