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.