Our sexual proclivities are an enigma We have them, we know that they are there we hide them, we keep them secret sometimes we act on them We cannot talk about them no one would understand We feel heated shame We block feeling, turn away from feeling we do anything not to feel We crush the horror of the terrible deed that the little voice inside our head bids us Our sexual proclivities are an enigma We have them, we know that they are there we hide them, we keep them secret sometimes we act on them We can...
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