Last memory (boston city).

Maybe i realized that it wans't a dream, too awesome to be a dream,

when i saw october leaves, of massachussets trees, on my feet in that boston's street.

Clean close sky-line line, dead empty sea.

And that places i was once more, second time completely unknown.

My came back home, is just a fight for the not forgotten details.

Hours pass playing to fix missing pieces of one night. Missing pieces of one face.

I always imagined how a last memory before dying could be.

For years, i tought mine would be his green eyes looking to the roof,

blowing his cigarrete smoke, filling up the car.

Always will be a person. But i prefered a painfull one, with part-erased face.

Kind of memory about beauty, and happiness. One second of life-film.

If I die tonight, Boston will be a girl-last memory-face, with painfull missing pieces,

others worth to be forgotten,

but still beauty as the first time she looked into my eyes.

-"October leaves, on Massachussets trees,

a sight so fleetingly free,

just how October leaves, just how October leaves me."

HH