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.