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,¤,¤,¤,¤,, Morning Quiet ¤,¤,¤,¤,,¤
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,¤,¤,¤,¤,, I Sit In My Cubicle In The Work Mill ¤,¤,¤,¤,,¤
,¤,¤,¤,¤,¤ And Feel Somewhat At Peace - I'Ve ¤,¤,¤,¤,¤¤
,¤,¤,¤,¤,, Entered A Bright Anomaly. Morning ¤,¤,¤,¤,,¤
,¤,¤,¤,¤,¤ Liminality. ¤,¤,¤,¤,¤¤
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,¤,¤,¤,¤,¤ No One Is Here. There'S Dust In The ¤,¤,¤,¤,¤¤
,¤,¤,¤,¤,, Air. A Strong Light Shines Through The ¤,¤,¤,¤,,¤
,¤,¤,¤,¤,¤ Windows, And Turns The Office Into ¤,¤,¤,¤,¤¤
,¤,¤,¤,¤,, Something New. I Pretend It'S The Sun. ¤,¤,¤,¤,,¤
,¤,¤,¤,¤,¤ ¤,¤,¤,¤,¤¤
,¤,¤,¤,¤,, I Speak With The Plants In My Head. ¤,¤,¤,¤,,¤
,¤,¤,¤,¤,¤ They Are Getting Too Much Water, Or The ¤,¤,¤,¤,¤¤
,¤,¤,¤,¤,, Water They Get Is Of Dubious Quality. ¤,¤,¤,¤,,¤
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