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.