A Tuesday Minute Read: Diurnal

peace_tranquilityShe loves the early morning mist, still, sounds muted,

Frissons of cool stealing round her ankles, wayward, timid,

Ready to bolt as the hammer of heat stands poised …




 sunsetShe loves the night, cooling to chocolatey silk, melting, melding,

Pinpricks ablaze to fade to teasing haze, slithering, soundless screams,

Ease down, ease down,

Sweet slumber sequesters the senses … adrift, all is still.

About Nya Rawlyns

Nya Rawlyns doesn’t write typical romance. She writes emotion as a contact sport, rough and often raw. It need not be pleasant, heart-warming or forever after. What she seeks is what lies beneath—a dance of extremes, the intersect of need and desire, and the compromises we make when pain and pleasure become indistinguishable. ***** She has lived in the country and on a sailboat on the Chesapeake Bay, earned more than 1000 miles in competitive trail and endurance racing, taught Political Science to unwilling freshmen, and found an avocation in materials science. ***** When she isn’t tending to her garden or the horses, the cats, or three pervert parakeets, she can be found day dreaming and listening to the voices in her head.
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