Light has no temperature, but it warms me. Light is the dawn of the morning, light is the afterglow of the setting sun, light is the poetry that falls on the body. Your smile outlines the night, and your eyes are filled with starlight. I am a person who returns at night, and I want to follow the light. Light is the trace left by those who become stars, the thoughts left by those who look up at the stars and the tears hidden in their eyes. Light has no temperature. Light is warm.
Intention: Who didn't have someone they liked when they were young?