Thank you so much for the exquisite valentine. The valves on it are my favorite part. Oh, and that you sutured them on too! Who knew you were such a good suture-er, of valves? It took me almost all day to realize that by blowing into the valves, I could make music. I played every love song I could think of, and then every other song I could think of, and then, I just carried the valentine outside and let the wind blow through it and that was the best song of all: Think bagpipes meets chimes meets whistling. And wow, I wasn’t even sure you knew I existed. How did you get my address? I guess, as they say, love found a way. I’m a little embarrassed though that I don’t have something equally as extraordinary for you. I tried to cut you a heart out of construction paper, but it came out lopsided and so I did that folding trick and managed to finally make a decent heart, but I then I remembered that thing Rilke said about the place where the fold is being a lie and even when I smoothed out the fold, I didn’t feel right about it. I mean, I don’t want to give you a hidden lie, or any lie at all. I tried not to think of origami because suddenly origami seemed like the biggest pack of lies imaginable. So many folds! I ended up abandoning the construction-paper project altogether and just consoled myself with some stroking of the valves. So, I don’t know. I’m sorry I don’t have a valentine for you. Though, I just realized, that what I do have, is some valen-time. As you can see, I am spending my valen-time on you, so I hope that means something. Valen-time must mean something. Is valen-time, love time? I think it might be. Also, there was a big sign in the window of the supermarket today advertising "Honeybelle Oranges," so I will buy you some of those tomorrow, because I have a hunch they'll be so sweet and ripe.