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.