Vulnerable

Lyrics

[Intro]
(a clasp — a necklace or a buckle, something being unfastened, the small mechanical sound of disarming)
(clarinet — alone, exploratory, the melody testing the room before committing)
(piano underneath — two chords, alternating, the heartbeat of someone deciding)
[Verse 1]
(Sisukiro — whispered at first, the voice of someone assembling the courage to be uncovered)
I have a room in my chest
That I've been decorating for years
With the furniture of competence
A desk — a filing system —
A lamp that flatters everything
Including the parts of me
That do not bear good lighting
And I've been inviting people
Into the living room
Which is lovely
Which is curated
Which has a bowl of lemons
And a book I've actually read
Placed at the angle
Of someone who reads
But the room in the chest
The one behind the bookshelf
With the lock I pretend is decorative
That room
Has the real furniture
The furniture I bought at three in the morning
When no one was looking
The fear of being ordinary
The certainty that the love
Will leave when it sees
The filing system
Is mostly empty folders
With ambitious labels
[Pre-Chorus]
(clarinet reaches higher — the melody climbing, the decision approaching)
And tonight
I am taking you
Past the bookshelf
Past the decorative lock
Into the room
Where the folders are empty
And the lamp is off
And the furniture
Is not curated
And neither am I
[Chorus]
(the brass ARRIVES — full, warm, enormous, the moment the armour comes off and the room holds)
L'amour vulnérable, l'amour vulnérable
The love that takes the coat off in the room
L'amour vulnérable, l'amour vulnérable
And trusts the room to be as warm as it looked from outside
The prefrontal cortex
Is screaming to put the coat back on
The amygdala is drafting an evacuation plan
But the insula — the quiet one —
The one that reads the room's temperature
From the inside —
The insula says
Stay
The room is warm
The person is safe
Put the folders down
The empty ones
Especially the empty ones
Those are the ones
That need the light
[Verse 2]
(voice and piano — the whisper gone, the voice full now, open, in the room)
I am afraid of seven things
Would you like the list
I've never given anyone the list
The list lives in the room
Behind the bookshelf
And the list is handwritten
Because typed feels too official
For the things that keep me up
Number one is that I am not
As interesting as the first hour suggests
Number two is that the first hour
Is a performance
I have rehearsed
With the rigour of someone
Who believes
The unrehearsed version
Is not enough
And number three
Which is the one
That costs the most to say
Is that I don't know
If I am loved
For the living room
Or the room behind the bookshelf
And I have never checked
Because checking
Would require showing the room
And showing the room
Would require this
Exactly this
This song
This moment
This enormous
Terrifying
Specific
Admission
[Chorus]
(full big band — the brass now fully present, warm, the room confirmed safe)
L'amour vulnérable, l'amour vulnérable
The love that takes the coat off in the room
L'amour vulnérable, l'amour vulnérable
The insula was right
The room is warm
The person stayed
The folders are empty
And the empty
Is not the failure
I rehearsed it as
The empty
Is the space
Where you can put
Your things
If you want to
If you stay
[Bridge]
(everything drops — just clarinet and voice, back to the beginning, but different now)
The vagus nerve
Has two settings for connection
The ventral vagal — which is the one
That lets you show your face
Your real face
The one without the angle
And the book you've actually read
And the dorsal vagal — which is the one
That shuts the whole thing down
Locks the room
Hangs the coat back up
Files the fear
Under the ambitious label
And goes back to the living room
Where the lemons
Are always arranged
And the choice
Between the ventral and the dorsal
Is the choice
Between the living room
And the room behind the bookshelf
And I am choosing the bookshelf
And the lock that was never decorative
And the folders that were never full
And you
Standing in my real room
Seeing the actual furniture
Which is not impressive
But it's mine
And now you've seen it
And you're still here
And the still here
Is the ventral vagal
Saying
Yes
[Outro]
(the brass returns — gentle now, not triumphant, just warm, the room settling)
(clarinet plays the melody one last time — no longer exploratory, landed)
(Sisukiro, voice full, open, done hiding:)
L'amour vulnérable
The room is open
(the clasp from the intro — but not refastened, left undone)
(the coat stays off)
(the brass holds one chord — warm, safe, present)
(and the room holds)