What was seen

Could never be

Unseen,

It melted the matter in his eyes,

His senses and the

Invisible sky,

Together in a cascade of

Perpetual blue,

Which was layered across the heavens,

Like thick lacquer

By the handy orange airplanes,

And the ghostly kites that hovered,

Just above the tanned hides of the greasy masses

And the

Fortunate

Fortunes,

Buried long ago under

Scores of empty sea-shells.

Laying there,

On a towel that

Barely

Even

Survives

The Dryer.

Sand whipped across his back,

But

Not stinging

Like

Sand should.

Instead,

Alleviating itches

He would be

Having

Ten years in the future,

With a touch like a

Mermaids tail.

And for another moment,

He wasn’t entirely sure

This experience,

Was courtesy of the usually bashful breeze.

Or if,

Perhaps,

His very own

Ions and electrons,

Were being swept up into some galactic stir-fry,

(With plenty of pearls, among other ingredients)

By a passing white  cloud,

Wearing an

Apparently,

Inconspicuous

Chefs hat.