Portable wardrobes that travel the world, sharing secrets of business and pleasure, wheels whispering stories of wanderlust on airport floors.

I top your bathtub and crown your beer. I fill your pillow and grace your Michelin plate, my dear.

I stand tall but have no legs, hold a flower, but have no hands. I'm a plant's support, its central core, what am I, say no more?

Patiently poised, I press and produce precise permanent prose. Eagerly etching expressions, empty of error, every emotion exposed. Nib navigating notebooks, neatly noting narratives new.

Plunging head first downhill, made of calcium probably