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.