A sudden flash, a sky's electric grin, swift as a thought, and gone in a blink. It dances with thunder, but never stays for tea.

I’m a unicorn that forgot the magic and chose violence instead.

I grow like little puffs of white, then turn to cloth both soft and light. Against your skin I’m often worn, a cozy friend from plant life born.

First is a thing that is held-a concert or gala-a word that covers both or substitutes for either. Second lies in the distance, forever sought, but never reached, no matter how far you go. Put together, I am the edge of a black hole-the point from which light can no longer escape.

A silent opera of the jaw, opening wide like a lazy lion's roar, contagious as a giggle, yet not a sound is heard. An unspoken call to rest, yet the day is just beginning.