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.