Saw Dust: an Old Song

His Master's View

I’m the sawdust from when the magician sawed the woman in half: I’m no longer part of the box, so am I part of the woman?


I’m the jar the woman keeps the sawdust in. She takes me out of the cupboard and unscrews my lid and weeps into me, but only from one eye.


I’m the eye with which the woman weeps into the jar. Since he sawed her in half every part of her feels independent from every other part.


I am the lake deep inside the sawdust inside the jar, formed from the great tears. I am a sphere of weeping, I am an eye that never opens.


I’m the fish the magician catches when he lets a line down into the lake within the sawdust. No-one can figure out how he got into the jar.


I am the fish’s eyeball: the magician will saw me in half tonight on stage and the woman will step out unharmed and I will weep sawdust.


I am the saw who saw how the trick was done. Later I will sing to the magician and the woman and the fish. They will keep the song in a jar.


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