Nimblekin

2.23 (Feb, poem a day, 8 lines each)

	You arrive from your pigeonhearted dark, twin to 
A thimbleful of treachery, you eye me. I 
	Do not know the word for love, you say, yet 
You’ve spoken me. Go on, go on—light as the linnet’s 
	Wings, flutter in my chest, we
Are measured by a tansy time, caught a-mizzle.
	I love you, simply, forgetting.
You’ve said that I’ve said that.