(The Eagle’s Gift by Carlos Castaneda)

Death Without End

By Jose Gorostiza

Oh, what blind joy

What hunger to use up

the air that we breathe,

the mouth, the eye, the hand.

What biting itch

to spend absolutely all of ourselves

in one single burst of laughter.

Oh, this impudent, insulting death

that assassinates us from afar

over the pleasure that we take in dying

for a cup of tea . . .

for a faint caress.

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