We are a pair of identical twins who never part, yet we have no heart. We both have necks but never a head, and we’re always empty when you’re in bed.

I dance across a blank white space, colours bloom where I embrace. Bristles at hand, imagination’s rush, what am I that makes the canvas blush?

It's a fire? No, it's a stone What is it?

I can be a children's toy or an instrument in the professional league, Either way, both can cause auditory fatigue.

I am a tiny slice, so thin and slight, a narrow shard that catches light. Not whole, not much, just barely there, a little piece of something rare.