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.