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.