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.