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.