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.