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.