The pillow that i boughtnespecially for younand the nights i spent playing chinese checkersnwhile you posed for flashesnof midnight city light photographsnall black with polluted skies and probablynthat black dress that fell downnyour back just rightnand all red with sirensnand lipsticknand what's with all thisnright, okay businessni'm a hermitnbut my friends call me a zombienwell do you really wantnto be a dead man your whole life? nOr do you want to grow up some day?ndo you remember our showers and your make upnwell i miss your raccoon eyes