There is a stopper
In a bottle
Which I hid in a drawer
Many years ago
In a chest which
The adults in my life
As a child
Moved into a room
Unknown
In my house
While I read a book

They sat me down with
A tale of a man
With a wife and a house
In a place full of lights
The man was a man quite ordinary
Not extraordinary

Except there never was a book
Like this in my house
And these adults
Were never people
Never people whom I have known
My dad was there
And my mom
But not them
Someone else
In stolen skin
And smiles
And speeches
And judgements

Ah, we come to heart of it
Now in the quickness
The heart
Stays still
And beats
To the tune of the drummer next door