I will marry you

Stories and News No. 1088

I’ll marry you, Marielle and Mônica.
In spite of every limit of logic and possibility, ideal ground for madmen from excessive courage and naive scribblers like myself, I am going to marry you.

I will marry you and I will be the celebrant, that’s right.
Because in the place where this page and all the aspirations erased from the vilest hate live, it doesn’t matter who celebrates who or what.
What is worth the price of the slightest presence is the tangible, realized desire that from this extraordinary moment is written colour on colour, no black on white.
Since beyond such a window on one of the many perfect tomorrow, we have just touched, there are all the imaginable shades and no one of the latter will feel entitled to overlap the others.
Forgive me, Mônica, while you're still awaiting Marielle's return a month from her unacceptable disappearance, if I offer only a drawing as a gift to this cruelly wounded feeling.
That is maybe the worst fault of a whole generation of fragile accomplices, deluded by the belief that with the more or less passionate combination of words and tones, the task could be exhausted.
Behind the presumed poetry of the moment, there is a whole world, fused together with admirable dignity and prowess in a single soul that sees every moment, even now, its shreds pulled away by obtuse beasts, now accepted as ordinary.
This is why the people who will cling the baton of the righteous will have to treasure these inhumane griefs and bring the rough road under their feet
and the mud on their hands.
Because of rough road and mud is made the way and the life of those who resist the servants of the powerful villains.
Forgive us, Marielle, if modern space and time have not accelerated enough to protect your precious wings.
That’s what we are, today, and it’s still too little to avoid nightmare scenarios for an intolerable number of people.
Nonetheless, what was vibrating and warming hearts and eyes is here. And for our good luck
memory suffers unspeakable beatings, but still breathes, and shows us something worth fighting for.
The feast of a love that has lasted for fourteen years and that in 2019 would have been officiated not as it deserved, but as it deserves.
Because we have to do everything to convince the cowardly murderer of living wonders that has taken away much less than he believes.
For that and a thousand other reasons, I will marry
you.
Marielle Franco and Mônica Benício, I will marry you, at least here.
I will marry what you could achieve, along with what you left behind.
I marry the world you wanted, so the one you started.
And, if anyone is contrary to this union, well, speak now, but then shut up forever.
Because you can kill lives in millions, but you'll never be able to scratch an inch of the dream that made them one thing...


On the same topic:
Stories of women killed in Mexico

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