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.