On your Dress

I caress your dress,
And I feel your pulse beating.


So, where are you?
I cannot see you.

I remember you wrote a poem
That you're leaving,
And this was your excuse.

You will be back one day,
You will read my poem,
Without excuse.

You will caress my shirt,
My pulse will beat,
But you will not see me.

Koroush Hamehkhani

Good poem, exactly what I was looking in a poem...
mamnoon
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donya cheghadr khouchike koroush jan.
dashtam to in jadehaye bi sar o tahe web migashtam ke ..........

baz ham on lahjeye ashna o ghalize kordi !
kheyli khosh hal shodam
har ja hasti arameshe abi sayebounet bashe .
mounes
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sherhayat binaziran,eftekhar b shoma aghaye hamekhani.dastetono mifesharam.faranse.maryam-asadi
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