If cells surfed, or had hands to greet you with from afar, You could say they catch or do this.

I cover without hiding, leaving spaces where secrets may show. delicate and patterned, I dress edges, sleeves, and bows. Light as a whisper, yet detailed in design, I look finely woven, with openings by design.

A cold, sweet treat well suited for a hot summer day. Start with the person we are celebrating today, followed by an erudite way to point out the original author made a mistake. Finish with a French article.

I reflect what stands before me, yet hold no memory. I double the world, yet make no sound. A silent mimic of your every move, I stand.

Usually full of cobwebs and dust, the afternoon sun piercing the darkness like a needle, sharp and crisp. Boxes on boxes, I'm full of forgotten treasure. Where am I?