my only dream

Tuesday was going
and I was standing
in the corner of road
to see Saturday
yet I was worry
about Friday
The memory of last hug
last smile
last touch
became so old
like taking copy of copy
It became gray
but
yet brought tears and smile
on my face
In the century of estrangement
from the ocean of my heart
from the desert of my body
till the mountain of your shoulders
how many times
should I go against the flaw
how many times should I cry
should I beg
how many times should I die
till I reach you
my only dream
I will do all breathless
just to touch once again
the mountain of your shoulder
yet Tuesday is going
and I am standing in the corner of road
to see Saturday
and
I am worry about Friday