The Antelope Thinks About Winter
Marc Paltrineri

The hills in the race, velocity and leap, have uniformly beautiful eyes. They have them large; one has large shelter, dense by brief leather. The it has a body that can surprise the movement with. (Orix of the tongue, for example; the brief one and the bush.) The change of that color or certain shadows of the white, that lower part, ruminating. Surviving, again powerful, strides of the times and we can run. To Beisa and Orix, there is a shelter; the uncouthness, the black color; with the blank people and the color. I live black. There is a market -- brushlike, runs near the back -- that opens when the danger rears the white hairs in the end. Named us by flower and eye, being beautiful and disguised.