On icy days, a second skin, To warm your fingers, snug within. A hand's old friend, it fits like fate, A cozy shell for every date.

An assassin’s cushion, this pile is packing peanuts for crates that are pushed on.

I wait in silence, small and still, yet spring to life with sudden will. Temptation lures you to my snap - a piece of cheese, a ...

I have teeth but never bite, a metal spine that hugs tight. A quick slide, I separate or unite, holding fabric with a silent might.

Shiny whisperer, Holds the soup to warm the soul, Light yet strong in hand.