The Streets

yesymphony

The hurrying tumbling waves and quickbroken crests and slapping;
The strata of colored clouds . . . . the long bar of maroontint away solitary by itself . . . . the spread of purity it lies motionless in,
The horizon’s edge, the flying seacrow, the fragrance of saltmarsh and shoremud;
These became part of that child who went forth every day, and who now goes and will always go forth every day,
And these become of him or her that peruses them now.

yesymphony yesymphony

wearing YESYMPHONY cape, Yiorgos Eleftheriades belt, Acne Studios booties

Excerpt Walt Whitman – Leaves of Grass