Prickly hairs on denim, coffee and a charcoal breeze.
Things that an adoring vampire might cherish.
Fermenting fruit that implodes underfoot, spewing forth boozy clouds of festive spice.
Roman roads lined with spent Roman candles; their vivid green wrappers peeled back by age-old temperance.
Copses and cul-de-sacs in familiar but fantastical guises, just as they were when eyes were bright and minds were still.
Bones once bleached now laden with ivy. Networks of wrought iron sinew beneath a glinting frost.
A flushed, taut canvas breathes anew, stares lovingly from its backwards existence.
Ankles that wade through the shallow mist seek out the bend in the river.
Surface cracks like Tunisian salt flats; slake their thirst in steaming baths of lavender and mint.
A dark brew to heal old burns. Dog-eared dreams by candlelight.
Christie-Luke Jones is a poet, fiction writer and actor from Oxfordshire, England. Christie-Luke’s writing is strongly influenced by the Gallic blood that courses through his veins, as well as his interest in the more macabre aspects of the human condition. To see more of his work, visit www.christielukejones.com.