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.