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.