I make it easy to squirt in all the right places, but I am not made of flesh. You might see me in the backyard or garden .

You tap, I glow as a tiny sun, I hold your secrets and shame. You say you’ll quit me: sure, that’s fun Then you use me just the same.

I sip every drop though I have no thirst, I’m busiest last when the shower ends first. I wear a metal crown and live in the floor, I also swallow storms, crumbs, and secrets by the score.

What has six faces but wears no makeup and has twenty one eyes but can’t see

I am blue, yet my smell is that of red paint.