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.