I'm in magic and books,
  with spooks and the crooks,
and forbidden lover's bliss
  after a vine trellis kiss.

I might be open or closed,
  often plain as your nose.
I'm a gift you can't take back,
  and in the sharing I crack.

Authors place me in Prague
  or the dense London fog
but I'm with people you meet
  both the wicked and sweet.
