As I am, I am something you read, or something you do for a trip. Remove a letter, I am a ghostly wail. Add a letter, I am a small, babbling stream.

Beneath the flesh, I quietly lie. A framework that will never die. When life retreats and all is bare, I'm the final form, forever there.

I have keys that open no doors, with space that will be used more. I make no noise unless struck, and found where words are plucked.

A key, a box, a lid, a wire. I do not hold a thief's desire. Two and three with white betwixt. Ten dance, two step, two gaze, one sits.

Open and shut, beginning to end. Leaves to turn, spine to bend.