Wendy Cope’s “Valentine” accommodates the traditional themes of love poetry while hinting at 21st-century perspectives. In eight short lines, the reader gets a slim view of a cagey speaker, one who both seems adept enough to execute complex poetic technique, but who also expresses crushing self-doubt. Line 2, repeated as Line 8 as the poem’s final statement, shows possible regret: “I’m afraid it’s you.” The speaker certainly seems to acknowledge that the intended audience for the confession of love will not be happy and almost certainly will not return the speaker’s affection. Even if the speaker doubts her own appeal—or at least any desirable qualities in the form of her affection—she selects her beloved with an almost weary resign: “[N]ext year will do” (Line 6) if the beloved’s defenses must be worn down over time. This promise of eventual capitulation stands at the threshold of consent and its definition. This superficially innocuous “Valentine” becomes a warning to the beloved: ready yourself because “my heart has made its mind up” (Lines 1,4, and 7). Resistance to this speaker’s advances only delays the inevitable. Cope’s poems often adopt a