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In my youth, I sailed along the Dalmatian coasts. Islets emerged at the water's surface, where, rarely, a bird lingered, intent on prey, covered in seaweed, slippery, in the sun beautiful as emeralds. When high tide and night erased them, sails downwind veered further out to escape their treachery. The harbor lights shine for others; still, the untamed spirit propels me out to sea, along with the painful love of life.