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.