With hand and flute a melody heard. Say duh with this you’ll bear the word. To mime a time, you can look absurd. On this, this fish or cake may burn.

Thin blonde hair that covers us all, peaches take more than their fair share.

A crime boss, capable of singing the highest possible pitch by a human

I belong on a table, In a garden, or where one path becomes two.

I hide where edges meet and wood is shaved ,A dip or groove, a pathway firmly paved. Take me away, and larger things will fit; Mark me in time, and I’m a moment lit .I never leave, yet absence is my space.