The Sunset Room

Somewhere in a sunset room
Oh, somewhere in a sunset room
We’ll share our new religion
Dine on rose and apricot
We won’t count the hours or days
And we’ll dance until we can’t

It is my favorite hour, and I am in my favorite place. The last light of day streams in through the bedroom window, bathing the bed in rays of sun. This is where I will read, or sleep, or simply look around – at the walls, at the ceiling, at the curtains framing the window. It is a place of quiet, and repose. A glass doorknob acts as a prism, throwing off shards of rainbows, and a robe hangs, eerily empty, beside it. I will wrap myself in it later, when the sun has gone and the evening has cooled. For now, we remain separate.

Ah, somewhere in the sunset room
It’s like a portal to another world
We have no need for clothes or shoes
And without words
Convince me you’re not counterfeit
And I’ll show you what I’m made of

There are tangible textures and objects in the room – wood, cotton, and paper – and then the more intangible things too – light, air, and heat – and somewhere between the two is me. We are both present and absent at all times, but for this moment I feel more present, more alive, than is customary. Feel the softness of the sheets, feel the ply of the pillow, feel the lightest pricks of the sun on my arms. I touch – the corners of a blanket, the pages of a book. I see – the subtle ridges of the rug, the swirling knots of the wood. I smell – the faded hints of cologne, the remnants of sleep. All of it feels like home.

We’ll have breakfast of chocolate and velvet
Brush off the dust of sleepy memory
We’ve awakened in a sunset room
We own, we own the sun and the moon

In this room, the years of my life pass in shifting light.

In this room, a state of perpetual arousal piques all senses.

In this room, the sun sets and the day ends.

In this room, the moonlight peeks.

In this room, the day begins again.

In this room, I have been happy.

In this room, I have cried into the night.

In this room, I alone have dreamed of not being alone.


Oh, somewhere in a sunset room
We’re craving winter, we’ve lost the afternoon
We’re dreaming on clouds of saffron silk
Bathed in a golden light, defying gravity
Oh, so completely
Oh, oh, so completely
Oh, somewhere in a sunset room
It’s like a portal to another world
We have no need, we have no need for clothes or shoes

The memories of our limbs intertwined, at the very beginning of when you were first getting to know me, and will we ever truly know each other? All that you see here, all that I’ve allowed you to see, can never reveal what I’m made of, but you draw it out, against the years, against the hesitation, and in this room my heart opens anew.

My hands are open, I stand before you, and I will show you…

I’ll show you
Yes, I’ll show you what I’m made of
Yes, I will
I’m gonna show you what I’m made of
Yes, I will
Yes, I will
I’m gonna show you what I’m made of

They try to say what you are, spiritual or sexual?

They wonder about Solomon and all his wives.

In the body of the world, they say, there is a soul

and you are that.

But we have ways within each other

that will never be said by anyone.

~ Rumi

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