I am a creature of the night, add one letter and I cover you, remove one and I am hurt

My first is in refuse,but not in reuse. my second in cloudy, but isnt in choose. My third is in apple, but isnt in lime. My last is in snaffle, and boy I taste fine.

A time traveler in a plastic shell, spinning memories caught in a magnetic spell, rewinds the past with a gentle whir, capturing frames without a blur.

I am a ghost that clings to stones, a whisper born from breaking bones. The sky must bleed to call me near, yet I am gone before I’m clear. I do not live, I do not die, I only breathe when earth will cry.

I sometimes disappear, though I am always around. I am a reflection of what I seem to be. I grow bigger or smaller, but stay the same size. Some say I can affect delivery.