The Downfalls of Divination
by Caitlin Bartley ’24
Reading tea leaves,
our silly tradition.
Two cups of steaming earl grey,
growing cold because of your omission.
I am frozen in time,
entranced by mugs of milky tea,
unaware that the café is closing,
trapped in a space
between fate and reality.
And although we were never proclaimed,
I can still see a future,
one that doesn’t end with my heart maimed,
held together by one
I have a thirst for prophecy,
my doubts must be relieved.
You’ll find me here waiting
like a fool,
eager to read your stupid tea leaves.