She was the drain

I was thinking of her all the day through. I am trying to be good. I kept her in the front of my lobe so as to not absorb all the other flighty fronty fixtures of frustration frolicking around me. I wanted her smell. I could smell it...or could I? Work followed me home, stuck to the bottom of my soul and weighed me down. I tried to shake it off with bites of chocolate but to no avail. I looked for solace in the words of others, but still no abounding luxury of release. Then as if she snuck in unannounced she led me to the bathtub. I rinsed the remnants of me down the drain and saw the strands of the weekend appear. There was the brightest bit of red, glowing, inviting me to join. I sank down to the waters edge and smelled the lavender all around. The water was warm and engulfed me like arms I longed for.It was sweet and caressing and danced like the acoustics of the guitar. Thank you words of her. You were my drain at the end of my long day.