Open Book

I give to you a text conversation I had with a friend in eleventy-one words...

Have fun last night?

Yes, but it was a bit much. People. Sweat.

I escaped the muchness.

There you go.

There I went, technically.

Very you.

A predictably open book as it were.

I think you have a few chapters locked away.

Does anyone ever share everything? If so, is it not but an approximation based on personal bias? No person can ever be captured except in collections of fleeting moments.

Poetic and true.

Not sure it’s poetic, but it certainly smacks of the elusive concept called truth.

You love words.

Are you nicely calling me verbose?

Affirmative.

I am also accomplished at curt one-word replies.

I’m well aware.

Truth abounds.