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.