Infection Swath Flyover

You might taste the salt of what they said out there
You still spin in ghost currents like an abandoned ship
Yesterday you sailed away but the tide brought you back
You’re the one who always runs but you’re legless now
You might graze the temple of the burning man
You might find your calling writing epitaphs
Yesterday you dreamt that all your friends were tiger sharks
In a parade to benefit the fitzwald school of arts
You still make them resonate like tuning forks now