Answer:
I am the yellow hem of the sea's blue skirt.
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.
Meat that has been cured by being cut into long, thin strips and dried
No sooner spoken than broken. What is it?
A canvas full of stars.
It flows out of the soil, It burns you if it boils, And holds us in its coils, More valuable than gold, As black as it is old.