Russian Doll (Poetry)

I am all of these graded selves —
one lives inside the other
getting smaller — wearing cloaks
each a different colour.

Romance’s variations —
it’s neat the way I fit
layer each alternative —
a borrowed conjuring trick.

All images are hollow
and hiding out forever
belief that’s born too vulnerable —
the heart is sly and clever —

creates a nest of wooden dolls
protecting truth within —
a folklore figure painted small —
skin inside of skin.