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.