One minor stylistic nit while I’m letting this sink in. So as not to repeat “to,” I’d suggest either
there is no end of ways to divide and collect what cannot be held
or
there is no end to the ways of dividing and collecting what cannot be held
Thinking out loud: I didn’t know what matador’s irons are, which wouldn’t matter, except that I’m unsure what image I’m supposed to get. Darts sticking out of the bull’s back? No, those are banderillas, not irons. Given the cape (and the poem’s title), I suppose it’s the bull who’s assumed the role of matador.
