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.