Mm… Too close to midnight… Too far from you… The room is still, just the fridge ticking in the hall. Your jacket’s on the chairback like you never left at all. I catch your trace in linen, in the glass beside the bed, and every quiet corner keeps playing you back in my head. I don’t need a promise, I don’t need a sign. I just need the memory of your skin against mine. I’ve got anxiety for your skin, a sweet little panic pulling me in. Every nerve is calling, every thought begins with the dangerous memory of your skin. I’ve got anxiety for your touch, and tonight I want you way too much. No medicine, no remedy, nothing settles me like the thought of your skin. Silk against my shoulder, wine still on my lips. I can almost feel you in the curve of my fingertips. My patience is expensive, but tonight it’s wearing thin. Every second without you makes the hunger start again. I can keep my manners, I can keep my pride, but I can’t keep this longing quietly inside. I’ve got anxiety for your skin, a sweet little panic pulling me in. Every nerve is calling, every thought begins with the dangerous memory of your skin. I’ve got anxiety for your touch, and tonight I want you way too much. No medicine, no remedy, nothing settles me like the thought of your skin. Come closer… Don’t speak yet. Let the silence do what words forget. One slow breath, one little sin… and all this beautiful anxiety melts into your skin. I’ve got anxiety for your skin, and I don’t even want the cure to begin. Every nerve is calling, every light grows dim… I’ve got anxiety, sweet anxiety, for your skin. Your skin… your skin… that beautiful trouble I want again.
