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.