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.