愛是溫暖。
血色流淌在暗處，卻仍然願意流向光。
Love is warmth — the colour of blood in the dark, still willing to flow toward light.
愛始於身體最暗的房間，
那裡只有心跳，沒有光。
Love begins in the darkest room of the body — only a pulse, and no light.
它不停留。
愛，不為自己而流淌。
It does not stay. Love does not flow for its own sake.
到了盡頭，紅燼成粉墨，
粉褪成光。剩下的，是呼吸。
At the end, red embers turn to rouge, rouge fades to light. What remains is breath.
愛，是血色學會了溫柔。
Love is the colour of blood, having learned to be gentle.