The wall

I’m thinking. It’s wonderful. I’ve thought therefore I’ve dreams. If I had wings, I should give their in order to be with her. If I had a lot of money, I should build paper house for us. If I had a account of the social network, I should write citations of emotion or mere phrases on foreign language. But… I stay at home and drink whisky. It’s loneliness. No. It's all temporarily. I hope for it. But I only wanted to embrace tight her, to wrap oneself up in her hair and to fall asleep together with her. And instead of it I said: “Open your wall at last”