(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.