Feet dangling
in the poorly lit airshaft
that doubled for a courtyard,
and eyes tracing the broken helices
of fire escapes that lead down
to what amounted to
a disaster waiting to happen,
we agreed that Typeface
was a bad name for
our kid (if we ever had one),
but Doruma
could still work
if it was a boy.
And Saturday rolled
marble clean as Friday
and it felt like something beautiful
to agree on an idea
that wasn't sex.
