I awoke abruptly to such a sweet scent in my nostrils. Rubbing my eyes I saw my dreams lying there as raw meat on a cold rack, slowly dripping their juices into the dusty ash below. There were various vaguely familiar fleshy cuts from yesterday's hunt. I raised the tongs and selected a pterodactyl steak to rest above the flame. Presently my brain began to sizzle and I lost consciousness.
I'm not a poet, I can't smell, and I don't eat meat. I've never met you. All I can do is dream. Good night.
Fun, spontaneous, whimsical, unique, fun.