Liberty's Sparkle (83)

   
   "Liberty's Sparkle (83)"
   
   The night was illuminated by a waxing Moon, so near completion and full of werewolf fever; regardless, the spirit of Liberty was feeling poor, so lovely and poor, as the Larry the Cable Guys in the mobile home park and their whiskey-drinking wives invited Bobby Rook and her to a snow-falling outdoor festival of imbibing alcohol and grilling rosemary graced swine.
   Bobby Rook, new paperboy in town, like Mercury delivering a modern day Town Crier; anyway, Bobby Rook was truly adored by the Larry the Cable Guys, but a few of the wicked wives and their gazing eyes, not upon Luna's neon cheese glow of reflection, but deep into the cerebral direction of the mysteriously fragile yet strong Bobby Rook, attempting to engage his countenance; next, command its glare upon their sultry souls, too damn incarnate--their eyes painted for enchantment, and Liberty figured they looked like Drag Queens--waaaay too much makeup and bravado, spilling themselves around her best friend, encompassing him with their hope of vaginal legacy, secretly shouting at his mind:  "Put your seed into my womb that might birth the best of men, somebody severely tested by sickness, poverty, stress, and loss, yet always standing with God, never losing faith."
   And Liberty got it--they loved Bobby Rook, and so did she, because no torturous trauma in life could thieve him away from adoring the Angels and Saints, which does lead to the Almighty Themselves, that Trinity of a Godhead, so delicious and truly Divine.
   So, in front of all the ladies, Liberty grabbed Bobby Rook by his Pea Coat, pulled him in close; then, she told him to close his eyes, and laid the smooch of her life on his full blown lips, them curious, but not quivering, accepting the ignition of romance, for whatever true reason.