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.