 Love crashes in from all directions, so peel me off the ground like wily coyote, and blow on my thumb to unflatten me. Love crashes in like an acme anvil, like an acme exploding rocket, like an acme exploding female roadrunner doll, like an acme exploding orgy of divine light, erupting from the great mother's breasts and ripping me to shreds leaving nothing but gratitude, so shake the black soot from my fur, and clean the coyote-shaped blast marks off the wall behind me. Love crashes in through my bare feet on the grass, and the wind in my hair, through the laughter of my children, through the flying creatures in the air, through my lover's hands on my flesh, through the unknowability of the future, through the ineffability of the present, through the ecstasy of existence, through the boundless heart in which all arises, so give me a sign which says, yipe, that I may hold before I start falling. I am in love with everything, head over hormones in love, gishy, sticky in love, in love like an idiot, in love like a gibbering lunatic, in love like a cartoon, so fire me out of a cannon, even though I will surely miss my target, so that, for my very short and ill-advised flight, I can look down over it all, and blow kisses, and howl.