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.