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.