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.