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.