I’m hugged, I’m flipped, I catch your head, and spend each night on your bed. One side warm from sleep’s embrace, the other cool, your saving grace.

I have no start, no end in sight, A perfect loop, a flawless light. No corners sharp, no edges bare, What am I, beyond compare?

I am born of sand, yet clear as air, I seem to vanish, though I’m still there. I bend the light, or let it pass, and break too quickly with a careless grasp.

I’m folded tight with secrets inside, Savory treasures where flavors hide. Crimped at the edges, golden and warm, In ovens or oil I change my form.

I adorn and beautify, Framing moments, catching light, A silent artist's touch.