Gift an onion next time

What is it about birhtdays that is so special? I've yet to figure it out but i know this- i feel really wonderful on my birthday. Like someone has touched the world with a magic wand. The air smells different, the food tastes better and the face that stares at me from the mirror looks much better than it does the other 364 days. Of course, being valentine's day people make a big hoo-ha out of it. I mean when i was growing up nobody even knew what a valentine's day meant. But now all the world has to buy roses, satin hearts and teddy bears and gather in malls and public places and look mushy just to prove that love exists in their hearts.
But why roses? Why not onions? Or tomatoes and carrots? why cant you gift something like an hour of total solitude? Who says you have to go according to the book? There's a poem by Carol Ann Duffy about valentines that I must share with you:

Valentine

Not a red rose or a satin heart.

I give you an onion
It is a moon wrapped in brown paper
It promises light
like the careful undressing of love.

Here.
It will bind you with tears
like a lover
It will make your reflection
a wobbling photo of grief

I am trying to be truthful.

Not a cute card or a kissogram.
I give you an onion.
It's fierce kiss will stay on your lips,
possessive and faithful
as we are,
for as long as we are.
Take it.
Its platinum loops shrink to a wedding ring
if you like.
Lethal.
Its scent will cling to your fingers,
cling to your knife.