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.