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.