I want to be a matryoshka doll,
Split evenly across the equator,
Torn open to reveal
Layer upon layer of hand painted interest.
You want me to be a Rubik’s cube;
All things visible always,
But not so clearly seen.
The truth is,
I want to be the matryoshka doll
because it is honest.
It is honest but it requires your proximity to be understood.
Any fucker can solve a Rubik’s cube.