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.