Captive is your soul in that sad cage of steel and silver crimped. Captive is your mind, in that sad labyrinth self-conscious of secret passages. Captive is your exhausted heart, which beats accelerated with enormous passion. Captives are your ego and alter ego asleep. Asleep they hide in a eternal secret of red passion, excessive. Your wings are captive, blades of old mills deployed to the southern wind. Captives are your ocean transparent eyes, between eyelids slightly fallen. Captives are your sealed lips, between silent silences and secret words. Captive are your five senses, between fragrances, aromas and beautiful sounds. Between hugs and kisses are your captive loves.
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