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.