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.