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.