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.