A humble sheet, a luster of skin, guards the goods it holds within. Rust may flirt, but it stays thin, a silent partner to its twin.

I am born when antiquity meets thread. When the dust twirls around and covers an old net. My first half, the corn, unbroken. My second half, a home for an arachnid foretold.

Everyone has me, I'm at your very core. You have over two hundred and babies have even more! I help you stand tall and have your back. But although I cannot bend I sometimes crack.

Put water in front of me, and I become a relieving place. Take away my tee, and I invade your personal space. Take away my first and last, and I do not win.

I’m speeding and chasing around the track. I’m driving very fast, forward and back. A blur of chrome, a palindrome.