I wink and I blush, but never a tear. I'm a playful dance, a whispered, naughty cheer. What am I?

I arrive uninvited after too much light, A fiery kiss that lingers through the night. What am I?

I make the lamp seem half asleep, its little glow is low and deep. Not fully dark, not bright at all, what word am I for this light fall?

I am sometimes liquid, sometimes solid. I am sometimes wet and sometimes dry. I am always clean and never dirty. What am I?

Spelled forward, a clip. Backwards, is what sticks. Swap second and last, done too much makes you sick. Par ‘fore this is rooted, no woods clubs or chips. A chop for the strand, Or for men, the quick-fix.