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.