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.