the dent in the rug
tells
where the chair goes, the table
is set.
where the grandfather clock
will
rest until it ticks
and gongs
no more.
all things in their place
since
day one.
and will be forevermore.
safety in sameness
I suppose.
and you,
are you not so different
having moved back into the dent
you once
made?
the familiar
and safe place.
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