After spending all my enthusiasm, I began to become lukewarm.
No one stood with me at dusk, and no one asked me if the porridge was hot.
The heart that is angry with the face has become tepid because of the secular.
I am not mature enough to believe in the warmth of love.
A product for ten years is as warm as a face.
The years are as cool as silk here, but they are also burning.
An inanimate, cold, tepid, rotten, smelly object. You told me it was exciting.
Our contact is getting less and less. I seem to be witnessing a relationship gradually freezing. Even if I throw my whole heart into it, I can't make up for this inexplicable sudden drop in temperature.
Wenshan soft water has thousands of stars, not as good as your eyebrows.