Answer:
Die without me, never thank me. Walk right through me, never feel me. What am I?
An action done on mosquito bites
I look at you, you look at me. I raise my right, you raise your left. What am I?
The more you look at me The less you see.
I am in truth a yellow fork from tables in the sky by inadvertent fingers dropped the awful cutlery. Of mansions never quite disclosed and never quite concealed the apparatus of the dark to ignorance revealed.
They come to witness the night without being called, a sailor's guide and a poet's tears. They are lost to the sight each day without the hand of a thief.