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.