I’m a cosmic vacuum cleaner, I slurp up stars and planets. I’m darker than midnight and I love to eat light. I hang out in space, don’t get too close, you’ll vanish without a trace.

They wait and run to catch me Once they do, they stand in awkward silence Then, one by one they leave me alone Oh, here comes the next round...

I’m worked in silence, prized in trade, a fortune formed, then tucked or weighed. I change with time, by heat or plan; Prove your worth or hit the pan. No roots, no leaves, yet I may grow, Some chase me forever, my name is:

I am an organ, but I am also a verb. Digital me sometimes cost money, but sometimes is free. I come in many colors, but I need to watch out for the sun.

A word with many meanings, three or more, for here; a sport of dodge and poking, the sale of stolen gear. The third of me is more mundane, and that of me which most would say, the closure of an area with me around the frame!