Here is what love is not: scissoring, any use of the words "peg leg" or "newsletter" or "caribou," or comparing someone unfavorably to Hillary Clinton. Love is saving a stool for someone. Love is correcting someone's spelling. Love is a penis cookie. Love is knowing yourself. Love is loving that you know yourself.
It's Valentine's Day at Litchfield. Some people are happy and other people are not happy. A lot of them volley between un/happiness. Larry lets into Piper and then lets into Polly. Piper still has no one, except she kind of has everyone, still, and is kind of doing everything. Everything now includes starting a newsletter under the guise of investigating the prison's apparently rampant, open-secret corruption. Healy lets her, because no one loves him and love is something he thinks he can earn. But like, Healy, guy, love just happens—a concept so vague it feels uselessly abstract. Even cosmic. OINTB instead makes it lived: a mosaic that works on a dizzying, telescopic sense of scale between people and within them and inside them. Big. Little. The macro clit. It's now the most expansive romantic drama in the history of American television.
And with that! Let's jump to the highlights.