After a long, hard day of dealing with pressure, and stretched to my limits, I just want a nice, hot bath. Practically boiling, with some relaxing salt thrown in? Simply divine, it leaves me feeling limp and pliant. Wait, why is my bed a plate now? Oh no, not the sauce-

The first four are the little hand The next six can be Sharpie or permanent Together on a dial they make a stand Each one, a day part they represent

I wear no clothes but come dressed in white, With a golden heart hidden out of sight. Crack me once, I change my form, In heat I harden, in cold I’m born. What am I?

I’ve got more layers than a centrifuge at Natanz, but I’m one hundred percent transparent until the heat is on and I start my 'liquidation' process. Currently undercover in a glass of doogh, shrinking by the min. while the Generals spill propaganda.

I can be a-jar, yet never spill, I stand up straight, yet have no will. Between two worlds I take my place. What am I you often face?