I hurt without my last Drop my second and I loosen you up Lose my third, I take your breath away Without my first I just ain't the same I mask some, I protect some. I give form to your imaginations

Throw me over your shoulder for good luck. Rub me into a wound if you want to make a point. Or just add me to your meal to bring out the flavors.

I have many meanings, one is the opposite of gross, also I'm a virtual place where information flows. I'm also threads intertwined in a patterned design, and a trap for the careless, unseen until time.

Piercing in tone, More Callas than Bocelli, Your throat holds your song, Mine seethes in my belly

Silky, still, sublime; Artwork abandoned, alone, Covering corners.