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.