Bathtime

If I were to shower now, I would go down the plug-hole like sand; most of my body may wash down into the void with the first jet of water, yet, parts of me would dally on the tiles, cling to the grout grooves, and loiter around the drain. Days later, you may step into that recess, and feel me gritty under-foot (because I'm not around to clean up after myself, I'm sand, okay?). Eventually, the relentless, erosive power of the water would ensure that all of me takes the plunge down the drain, and off I'd go, reluctant and brave, to uncharted territories. Yes, if I were to shower now, down the drain it would be, but not quickly by any means.
However, tonight I'm not feeling brave, nor geological. Tonight my body needs soothing, not to be battered and broken up by a harsh stream of water. Tonight, tonight, tonight I'm having a bath.