Answer:
I can be in your body but never on your placemat. I'm always better when I'm fresh, but you'll never see me in the flesh. What am I?
I have a name written on me, but it isnβt my name. Men plant me, but I never grow. They look at me and see their future, rotting in my bloom.
I am the kind of dog that chases anything red. What am I?
Who is the most foreign visitor you could imagine?
small land in water.
What do you purposefully put lots of in and on your body, but run away from when you encounter it outside?