Dilly Dally

The loss is held in the firmament of my inner eye. I guide a ship to harbor wondering the future of sailing, and the past of ship building. Can I just be different and no longer be crushed by mortor and pestal? I sit myself up in bed with separation in my head. Can you be correct and protect me from dangerous other entities? I have stood at the gate and held the dykes firm. I will blow with the wind and see if their is a gail out there for me. Seeing the sum of all parts, I ask to be taken away from the world of tarts. Please call on the computer line. My heart ached the other day, but now it is fine.