I come in a roll like a paper snake with one side smooth and one side that will take I cling to cards and wrapping tight I hold your gifts and signs just right I fix torn pages with a kiss and seal a box so nothing slips I crinkle softly clear or gray what am I sticking night and day?

When walls said, keep out, I took offense. I answered back in the airborne sense.

I look like snow in tiny flakes I hide in chips and crispy cakes I make your soup shout hey wake up I sneak in almost every cup I live in oceans rock and mine in shaker hats I love to shine Too much of me can cause a fuss yet food feels wrong without my touch I turn bland bites to flavor loud from simple fries to steaks so proud I am the pinch the chef will hurl a crystal king of flavor swirl

I come from the rubber tree I'm always in your mouth when there's nothing to savor Pull me from foil to opt for flavor

I sit and I float, and await the gentle pull, of a manmade track, with waterborne floats. Idleness is in my title, the goal is to float along, without any movement; the water sings the song. I idly wait, and the current does take, my single or double person float, especially with kids; I keep my eyelids wide open, well past my curfew.