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.