When everyone was speaking in tongues, together, at the same time-not one at a time, they could only be speaking of love. It sounded like a river, the river of humanity and it made some want to be ruthless dictators, some want to be mothers and some want to run and hide under a volcano across the high seas. And some wanted to form armies of it, claymation, that would roll into the great Goddess's womb, through that singular canyon of delight, not stopping to tarry but hurrying along, their blood boiling.

Put it all back, put it back! I yelled, startled and not yet involved.