Don't eat cold pizza before bed.

She pours through my fingers like hot water on a cold night
I feel the warmth travel up my arm and reach my face
Our hands are frozen together but now we don't feel it in our palms
We are lip-locked
I suppose this is what dancing is like.
I search her eyes and find a place to rest in her gaze
But like a typical Monday morning, I can never get enough sleep
Parting is such sleepy sorrow
With a goofy smile on my face I stagger into my car
But not before slamming my head on the edge of the door.
Time to enter a marginal existence once again.
What an interesting dream...