That’s what boats are called 
She was always on high alert and it was this perpetual state that made her special in the eyes of some people. Other adventurers didn’t find her so charming and they sneered at every flinch that distracted her. She wore black and white as if they were the only colours that existed in nature, like romantic swords that intimidate during the day and at night make their impression on the beach terrace. She liked powerful phrases and used adjectives inappropriately, ending up saying things she didn’t mean to, then maybe something would fall from her hand and some people turned wondering why. She said that her name couldn’t be forgotten as it is the name given to boats, I didn’t know what to say and stayed silent for no reason.
After a year of ups and downs, I went back to dreaming on the same island. While I was taking in the profile of the bay like sucking through the straw of a liquor cocktail, the lady kept her eyes on what she was doing and when I found myself in her eyes I was once again in a white and blue painting, I don’t know what I was doing there but I was there where I wanted to be. It didn’t last very long, I hoped it would be enough for the whole winter.