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In the torrent of hidden passions,
the threads of destiny intertwine,
glances are bullets that penetrate,
transforming the clandestine into desire.
The puppet, without will of its own lies,
victim of impulses and restless whispers,
its strings entangled in desire,
stretched and tensed, in search of concrete objectives.
In the dark abyss of pleasure,
the puppet surrenders, begging you for sex,
but who guides its unrestrained dance,
a puppet trapped in its own reflection.
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