Sandpaper And Satin

Would you do a dance
On those blistered hands
That came from the shrill wind
Scraping and spitting sandpaper
In the air as it moves?
Would you do a dance
With those legs stretched
Thin like satin
Inside your skin; it's hard not
To breathe in the fumes
With nostrils so close as
Arms are pushed magnetic
To a paper thin space.
Would you do a dance
To this pulse like a siren
In the distance goes
Beyond sound and takes on
The form of a blue flame
In this hollow chest.
Refusing was a mistake that
May shut off the valve.