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.