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.