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.