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.