A Sonnet Written on the Occasion of Texts Exhanged Past Midnight

I see you, I am home 
Oh Love, miles between us, 
Yet still home! When in my hand, 
Upon this tiny screen, I hold your heart. 

Spoken - a million nothing's yet unsaid
As we, the heavens witness, lull to bed
For each, our better half. 

I feel you, I alone 
But for God, none before me!
Under that stillness, holy silence 
Breathed our lover's testimony 

Sought in sooth, what left behind 
Would by day not pain the mind:
That to me, as fair as Arthur's Guinevere, 
You are.