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.