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.