Piker Press — Weekly Journal of Arts and Literature
April 27, 2026

Insatiable

"...How our paths crossed in time by chance..."

Insatiable

I stopped in my tracks where it had struck
How our paths crossed in time by chance
From what dark recess I extract such
To recover this casual memory saved

What joy comes sometimes blind I receive
Not knowingly next to me and always do I reach
To see her bleary in distance but know somehow
The soul in that gaze is a familiar one

To see this life again in altered paths
Like wolves at bay are my regrets
When ended unsettled this draw endured
A peripheral glow now fully engulfed

In modern surround her style unchanged
Her voice so some sedate stream insatiable
Pierce through what haze of youth obfuscate
I affix a filter to an undeniable spell

What wasn't just perfect I'll dress it enough
Into a seam torn time arms stretch through
Denied she fades reaching ever possess
That something to which I failed to sate






More by Rando Mithlo → More poetry → Full issue →
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