henry james lopez and ada limón's “love is impossible and it goes on despite the impossible. you're the muscle i cut from the bone and still the bone remembers, still it wants.”
“love is impossible” is something hard realists would say. it's the pillar that extremists hold on to, be it that they've never experienced love or that they've known a kind of love that is irreplaceable. “love is impossible and it goes on despite the impossible.”
interesting how, instead of the “but” conjunction, limón uses “and” paired with “despite.” it goes to show that it can be true in both ways; love can be impossible on one hand, and still persist or even morph into something that wrings out the impossible and submerges it into could-bes, would-bes, and must-bes. to love despite all the odds stacked up right in front of you.
“you're the muscle i cut from the bone and still the bone remembers, still it wants.”
thus, despite the impossible, with the knowledge that it still goes on, love yearns. like how the bone has always known the muscle, love has always had the strength to persevere. like how the bone has grown in and is surrounded by the warmth and company of the muscle, love has always seen the light of hope and tasted the sweetness of surrender.
“you're the muscle i cut from the bone and still the bone remembers, still it wants.”
like how the bone still remembers the muscle despite its absence, love still endures the long winter despite the harsh temperature and severe hunger for spring. like how the bone has always existed with the muscle and continues to keep its memory in its marrow, henry james continues to remember and yearn and hold and love — because that's what he has known his whole life.
(posted this first on twitter. just had to save it here.)