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.