I can be a coats warm lining. Or, take ya for all you’ve got.

Pressed in wax or ink on page, yet on the ground I thud and pound. I certify, I mark, I gauge; or a heavy step, a weighted sound.

I strike bright fire with rough embrace, Or find the equal in a face. I set two rivals toe-to-toe, Or spark a flame with single blow. I pair, I flare, I test your will, One whispered touch, and I fulfill.

I come and go without moving at all. You can chase me for miles, but you’ll never get closer. I’m always in front of you, even when you turn away. What am I?

Depending on which one of me you grab, I might bite you or help you guide. You might be holding me right now.