A Ouija board between us. A scrying bowl at our feet
Runes all around the room; and leaves all in the tea
And you knew the face of gods, but you did not know me
And I drew the sigils, but I did not know thee
The Ouija board is dusty. The scrying bowl is cracked
The runes have lost their meaning; the teacup is empty
Five-hundred miles between us. Tears under my feet
Letters scattered 'round the room; and leaves float in the tea