But look closer. It says je t’aimne. The apostrophe is backwards too. Je t’aime. I love you. Everyone knows that. And who made this for me? Little Amine. Little Amine of the passionate heart, of the temper, of cuddles so close that we share breath. He made an anagram of his love. He folded his love into his name. He mixed his name, his identity into loving. The little flower sits right on the fold line of the heart. Just a little flower, drawn with his left hand and red, red at the centre. Ah, a puzzle, a love knot. Who can unravel this? Who would want to? Je t’aime right back and je t*aimne too.