Matryoshka by Theresa Legein

Could someone put me back where I belong? 

Little lady nesting doll, small and small and small and small and candy cane mouth, red curls and all round curves, sterile smirk lacquered slick with soft glint 

Take your pick from all sizes hollow on the inside fill it how you’d like, (I am painted, skin). 

Maker made me complete, how can I, doll, debate? 

(he loves to crack my bodies open) 

From the seams of the belly breakage so crisp, no spillage each body splayed idle side by side each body smaller a little less there is to hide all the pretty history unwoven, broken, all toppling over 

A new layer begins and this time there’s no hinge because in all this His I’ve forged a real skin over broken shells of somebody’s else I don’t wanna open up anymore 

Yes, I am, endlessness, and this is metamorphosis, this is the life of women, and women, and women, and women. 


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