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.