An old story I'm trying to recall

I actually think I originally wrote it in a poem, a long poem/short story.

I could do original things back then because I was unaware of the fact that someone else had already done it all.

It was a person reminiscing of the most perfect moment in their life, it was chocked full of artistry that I do not want to try to recreate, because it was inspired. But, I do recall the story, and the feeling of urgency, that it had to be told, or bust! So, because I lost it, I'll just tell the story as I remember it, wihout the literary magic.

Eventually, they settled in on a moment and it was romantic, not a steamy sex scene. This time it was told through the eyes of a woman, though usually I tell my stories as a man. It was one of those epiphimatic moments where like an uncontainable flood of. hmmm, I can't think of a word for it, but if you ever experience it, you'll know what it is. A lot of people call it love, but it is sooooo much more than anything I've ever known as love, but that word will work.

This girl was a dreamer and considered by even herself to be delusional, but at this moment, unprepared. Yet how could one prepare for the unknown, anyway? At this moment she realized that there was a whole lot of truth to those delusions. She felt like a little caged bird just set free, but she didn't want to go anywhere. Instead, she just looked back at this guy and everything that needed to be said was communicated through their eyes.

Finally, I'll mention the hands. People are whole lot more than their hands, but they(the hands) represent doing. So what were the hands doing? Nothing much, like the mouth that was speechless and unneeded. Her hands were wrapped around him in an embrace, with her head resting on his chest listening to his heartbeat. And his hands were on her back. So, why the heck is this so important anyway? I do not know, but it is.

Here is a song I recall performing with my family, Matthew played guitar, Jeffery beat on salad bowls for drums, and I played the piano, naturally. Jeremy was a Frankenstein, and Lindsay played the doctor. This was all done from behind a sheet with a flashlight. Jerm was given a heart and then two danced (special choreography). It was in the basement in GA. I couldn't have been but 12 yrs old. My "piano" was a tiny little electrical keyboard. I couldn't really play back then. I just liked to pretend. Here are the lyrics:

Heartbeat, I hear your heartbeat.
I hear your heartbeat beating to the beat of my heartbeat, baby.

(ok, I only remember the chorus) I do remember other ones where I performed on the actual piano upstairs in our house on Mockingbird Lane.

unfinished note

This is such a long (enduring) note, probably a sustained a1 handed off by various wind instruments who also use the technique of circular breathing.

Dear Beloved,

Is it any wonder I found you? Now, that was so much fun, go hide again.

I even wrote a story about this adventure, only difference was the main characters were a student and a history professor. But, no matter who or when, if the promiximity is there the truth will not be long off in it's discovery, huh?

Woof the woof said woof? Sorry, not hardly romantic enough for your beautiful eyes, Forgive me. I tend to speak what is in my mind using my ability to beautify later. But, your beauty could never be hidden or disguised, in or out of the spotlight. We must hire Ben Folds to write us a song, until he does, my heart will compose the