Morning lavender

A literary book that takes place in forty-six mornings, a constellation of very contradictory mornings, completely agreeing that the morning remains a morning no matter how dark our sorrows... our downfalls... our pains. The sun of relief will surely rise, with the faith we were created with... with our dreams... with us - with our pieces that walk on the earth - with our other bodies. And after the morning, the relevant text is paved with a lavender morning. Sometimes the letters may be different angles captured by the lens of the morning, to absorb all the details scattered in our lives, jumping professionally from one story to another, until the captured images gain precision, art and diversity. Excluding any effects to clarify the vision, the dimensions of light, and the depth of beauty, for beauty is to make the morning an evening, and the evening a morning, to not hesitate when our hearts accept giving. Overall, it has the features of a city crowded with children..its nature is stubborn, you imagine it is as innocent as the innocence of its inhabitants, innocent as the wolf is innocent of Joseph's blood, but it is full of noise, love, loyalty and denial. Full of the wounded and the foolish, full of lavender flowers. And feelings not consumed by the other party, it writes for the common people before its elite, it writes for those who do not know that it was written for them, and it also writes for its intended purpose, it weaves letters in the narrowest stifling straits, and in the vast expanses, it writes only because it wants to express.