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.