Rapto (Spanish for abduction or rapture) invites us into an intimate hide-out; the outside world feels hostile, so the singer proposes a voluntary lock-in where passion becomes a pair of handcuffs. With the hypnotic mantra “No te suelto más” (“I won’t let you go anymore”), Cerati paints love as a sudden, reckless impulse—a burst of unconsciousness that makes him tighten his grip rather than face an empty hand. The music mirrors this push-and-pull, turning desire into a thrilling captivity that both lovers seem to choose.
Beneath the sensual surface lies a warning about obsession. Lines like “Más la cuerda aprieta el cuello, más perverso es el consuelo” suggest that the tighter the bond, the darker the comfort becomes. Yet the singer still dreams of a utopia “as long as a century and short as a day,” dozing on his partner’s lips and begging her not to smile because he knows he might fall. “Rapto” reminds us that intense love can feel like a beautiful kidnapping—exhilarating, dangerous, and impossible to release once the trigger has been pulled.