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.