My Valentine’s

Feb 14, 2026

This began as a gift for her Valentine.

Full moon. Shrines. Pink champagne.
A proposal before the balloons had settled.

I read it once.
Then again.

Somewhere between “forever” and “shadow,”
a female cat paused mid-groom
and decided this required a response.

Not outrage or surrender.

Just a slow blink and a yawn,
from the other end of the sofa.

What follows isn’t disagreement.
It’s the sound of a cat
who has heard “forever” before,
seen what male cats get up to
when they’re out at night,
and still chooses
where to sit.

ㅤ

To My Valentine,

My darling, you can’t imagine
what an adventurous life we’ll share together.
We’ll take the pulse of the full moon,
and when it wanes,
I’ll hold you close.

You and I will travel far and high —
light incense in shrines where spirits rest,
taste sweetness by the sea in Italy,
and sip green tea in the warmth of Bali.

My darling, let’s be
Lady and the Tramp as well —
a love story with the happiest ending.
Did I tell you I have a degree in reading clouds?
We’re the perfect couple. I guarantee it.
(Also, I might be slightly delusional —
but that’s how all great loves begin.)

Your tender gaze stops me in my tracks,
my pulse quickens,
my senses awaken.
I don’t even breathe, so I won’t disturb your wonder.

It’s our first date:
Valentine’s Day — balloons, little hearts…
Please, be my wife!

The matchmaker was right:
your colors are karmic for me.

I want to sip you from a crystal glass
of pink champagne,
bubble by bubble,
until the sunset drinks us both.

What happiness it is to have found you.
There’s no turning back now.
I am your shadow.
You — my Valentine for life.

ㅤ

To My Eager Valentine,

I love how you think my adventures would be with you.
How sweetly certain you sound
when you speak of moons and shrines
and sunsets already booking our future

I hear you.
I really do.

You speak of shrines and sea-sweet air,
of Bali heat and Italy light,
and I admire the height
of your devotion,
those locks in your hair,

Truly.
I do.

But while you’re reading clouds,
I’m reading wind.
While you’re naming stars,
I’m staying in.

You look up —
I look wide.

You promise forever
like it’s a ribbon already tied,
a glass already filled,
a vow already tried
and tried

And darling…
I do enjoy your certainty.

The way your pulse quickens,
the way you hold your breath
so as not to disturb my wonder —
that part?
I noticed.

But remember —
I am not the moon to be reached for.
I am the horizon you approach slowly,
and only if I choose,
and very carefully too.

You may sip pink champagne
bubble by bubble
until sunset drinks us both —

but I am the one
who fills the glass.

And perhaps,
I’ll let you kiss that smile of mine,
as you fall gently into line,

and call me Valentine.