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.