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.