Fractious conversations; half-hearted, lip synced. Frantic fingers tracing familiar paths, back and forth across time and space. How much longer until each gives in, or gives up? Until the melodrama unfolds, like poorly crafted origami and becomes a crumpled paper crane. Aimless fingers tap dance, until the music ends. You need to be somewhere else, other than your own space and time. Stop typing! Feel the breeze on your face. The world awaits. Continue reading Chat(less). A poem.