Answer:
Late afternoons I often bathe. I'll soak in water piping hot. My essence goes through. My see through clothes. Used up am I - I've gone to pot.
Hold the tail, while I fish for you.
As beautiful as the setting sun, as delicate as the morning dew. An angel's dusting from the stars. That can turn the Earth into a frosted moon.
A tiny bead, like fragile glass, strung along a cord of grass.
What does no man want, yet no man want to lose?
The warmer I am the fresher I am.