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.