Liberty's Sparkle (84)

   
 
   "Liberty's Sparkle (84)"
   
   After the swine was gracefully toasted and cooked according to the rosemary and its beneficial awesomeness, Liberty and Bobby Rook separated their synergy of possible carnal copulation, mounting the bunk beds in singular fashion, though Spanky on her downwards bunk.
   And she went into a deep sense of Rapid-Eye-Movement, even though smeared in shots of whiskey from the trailer girls, the sophisticated sour mash egging her onward, till completion of competition; nevertheless, deep down inside, Liberty only liked to play for fun.
   She dreamed of her late husband Tom--him no longer affected by the hyperactivity of OCD with Tics, but so solemn and controlled, saying:  "Bobby Rook moves straight--do not remove his anchor that is deep into the sublimity of God's Heavenly Harbor; regardless, love and adore him, totally knowing:  even a singular kiss from your honey stained lips is enough to keep him warm through an entire winter.  You are freedom Liberty, and make it be."
   Liberty, free enough to not really know the physician-like aspects of Christ, those Four Sacred Chambers beating for True Love, like a high school band wanting Dylan and Brenda to have FOREVER at the prom, and some people brag of their college days, yet Liberty still in the metaphorically haunting times of high school, remembering:  all the bullshit, yet adversaries so close by, and keenly yet cautiously knowing:  even though the angels are with us--this does not mean we should act as fools.  
   She prayed.  Really intensely.  And Bobby Rook snoozed away the nocturnal night, her having Spanky and his loving drool to hold onto, her unknowingly saying clearly:  "Domini canis."  Next, further into the sea of dreams, splashing her waking remembrance with super-reality as the Daystar was ignited.