“The book I begin to write is in her eyes” Photography by Derrick Leung writing by Mark M. Whelan
the smell of bergamot drifted across the gardens swirling and twirling in invisible plumes of perfume until they were inhaled by the girl sitting next to me and yes she looked at the fountain she looked
at him watching her and as she breathes in the delicate and distinct aroma she notices me watching her, and the book I begin to write is in her eyes, and it takes me back to the Roxy Hotel, and the tea diffuses into the water reaching out to the confines of its cup in clouds of colour.
I'm waiting for you to let me know when to start sending you stuff too! I definitely want IN to contributing