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.