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.