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.