No locks, no bars. I was built to imprison. No forks, no dead ends, yet you swear you’re lost. My prisoner shared blood with my creator, and a thread, not a key, was all escape cost. I live inside your skull in chambers carved from bone. Disturb me there and solid ground becomes unknown. Lay me flat in gardens and I’ll quiet every war your restless mind has waged. I am what you walk me for. Don’t call me by my cousin’s name, he offers you a choice. I give you only one way in. One way out. One voice.

I wear a cap, but lack a head, I grow where light and warmth have fled. Though gills may line my underside, no fish are found where I reside.

People got into fights for wearing me or not wearing me a few years back. But at any time, you could wear me at a themed ball or party.

Unique loops and whorls, an artist's secret signature, leaving invisible autographs on everything we touch.