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.