Eight

The screen flashes,
“1 new message” it reads.
Glimpsing at the letters of your name fills my heart with pure delight.

We talk for hours,
Until there is nothing more to talk about;
So we create more,
Just so we can keep talking.

Your words are like music to my ears,
I may not see or hear them as often as I would like,
But they are always with me.

But the best part of our conversations,
The purest visual ecstasy that you bring me,
Are the last eight letters that you always type,
“I love you,” it reads, and I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.