P, Poetry is the sincerest gift I could think of. For your birthday, a day shy from a leap day, I read a Wislawa Szymborska. Perhaps a sensitive soul like Szymborska can understand why I have to do some tweaks to make the poem more particular and intimate: changes like teacup to mug, Swift to Oliver. Love, Your Z P.Z. Yes, I’ll introduce my beloved river to you soon. Soon.