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.