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.