Come over. You'll mull over all my confessions and conceive a plan. You'll remember how Rocky Horror subdues my fear of intimacy. How when wine mixes with my blood, my lips start seeking skin. How a masquerade mask evokes from me short-sighted impulses and hands me over to unhinged irresponsibility. You'll think about whispering “In a mask I can be true to myself, and in a mask you can be someone else.” But you'll find it too corny and creepy to speak, and the way the words will crouch on your tongue--ready to pounce in an instant--will keep you locking your mouth shut. Besides, masked me only has my body in common, and that would not satisfy you. I'll wake up, rub my eyes, and smile when you're the first thing I see. You'll look scared a moment as your brain remembers that your desires aren't mine, and the fantasy will submerge deeper into you.