Mix me up and let me dry, or pour me up to scrape the sky, or scrape your knee on me and cry.

The first five are empty, seen yet vast. My last three serve bottles, filled and fast. Together I'm struck, but never scarred I split your words, a faithful guard.

I can spark a flame with just a strike, or pit two teams in a game alike. I’m found when partners fit just right. Tell me my name, both day and night.

Red, pink or purple inside, big or small, Touch me, twist me, I’ll rise tall. I’m made to meet a woman’s kiss, Leaving behind my mark on her lips.

I exist as spirals, but I am not a galaxy. You might find me in a lighthouse or castle.