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.