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.