Dbachman, "Nebra sky disk," 2006
I give. Not up, not in, just out. It is transitory, this out-giving, like the life of the body, spent until I’m broke on complex exchanges of what matters—hope, love, the Krebs cycle, fuel for my mitochondria, desire, oxidation. My coach calls this “working to failure;” a holy weakness that presages strength, a wildfire scorching to sow. I call it a day, pull the emptied sun down with me to a hollow where we both will sleep.