I want you in my carnival like a dirty secret we don't bother hiding. I pull you by the hand, we rush through the crowd, and when I touch you to the first firm surface I find, there's no room for shyness anymore. My body fits against yours with clear, slow intention, pressing, feeling each of your reactions as if it were music just for me. My mouth travels down your neck slowly, my teeth leave light marks, my tongue teases… while my hands explore, squeeze, guide. I whisper in your ear everything I'm imagining doing when no one else is watching—and I make sure my voice trembles just to increase your hunger. The costume no longer serves its purpose. The glow of the party now is that of our warm skin. The beat of the drums has given way to the rhythm of our bodies shamelessly teasing each other.