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.