what lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why,
i have forgotten, and what arms have lain
under my head till morning; but the rain
is full of ghosts to-night, that tap and sigh
upon the glass and listen for reply;
and in my heart there stirs a quiet pain
for unremembered lads
2T R8CHL


"When he lets his hands and face move like they want to and doesn’t try to hold them back, they flow and gesture in a way that’s real pretty to watch, but when he worries about them and tries to hold back he becomes a wild, jerky puppet doing a high-strung dance."  - One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest on Harding, Ken Kesey (via happyhappenstances)


posted 3 months ago with 4 notes
via happyhappenstances (originally happyhappenstances) ·
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