I wear no skin yet bruise at dusk, I swallow stars and leak out blue. Birds borrow me without a sound, Storms write their tempers on my face. I’m always overhead, never held.

small and white hexagonal and microscopic... it'll melt at your fingertips... dont lick it off a tree or power line or your roof or your car just a word of warning, thats all

Wooden beast o' waves, Canvas wings catchin' the breeze, Heart of the ocean.

In the land of stripes, I roam with grace, a horse-like creature in a monochrome race. My attire is nature's barcode, a walking piano with no sound to unfold.

I am a portmanteau Somewhat bizzarely Of order's counterpart And bristle on barley