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.