Miracle

The boys watched quietly, afraid to speak,
as if waiting to witness their first sunrise. Or childbirth

They eyed the bad woman baking

as tiny flames licked over its skin.

Suddenly, a savage burst
along the edge of the blue-tinged sex 
that seared through its bloodless veins
The body turned to liquid, fiery heat,
Spilled out of its brilliant core
Sending swarms of flies buzzing up the inflamed opening.

"She's no lady, She has no modesty!" They cried
As a vibrant creek slithered closer along the planks

Like puppies they watched, whimpering but not moving closer
Transfixed by the rancid repressed scent of murdered womanhood,
And the ephemeral rainbow of its afterglow.