Disclaimer: I am as likely the owner of this film as I am a ballerina and as my sister will vouch for me, I am definitely not a ballerina.

Spoilers: Major subtle spoilers for pretty much the whole movie. You could conceivably read it without having seen the film, but some of it might go over your head.

Warning: Severe mushiness and drama alert! Like you’ll need a shovel to get through this.

From the moment we first held hands, I knew I had found my fire for she was my sun, the center of my universe.

Dancing with her, I was invincible. I could do anything with her in my arms.

I lifted her to the heavens and I could swear I was already there.

With every sauté I flew and every saut de basque I floated.

I was her Sistine Chapel and she was my Michelangelo, just as I was her Da Vinci and she was my Mona Lisa.

She was more than my partner; she was my sun.

My other partner--the one my teacher assigned to me--never knew that as I lifted her, I pictured another’s face.

The empty walls of placid gray would melt and fade, becoming walls of brick and steel.

That was my true home and my true heart.

I lived for the night when my sun would be mine.

During the day, I danced.

During the night, I flew.

There she was above me, smiling that perfect smile, glowing that perfect glow.

She was the definition of beauty, the image of perfection.

She was Aphrodite in mortal form; my goddess through and through.

At night as she lay sleeping, I’d look down upon her flawless skin.

I’d watch her sleep and I could swear that she had no mortal match.

Through rose-colored eyes I watched her and in black clothes I let her go.

My sun hid behind the clouds and the world seemed darker for it.

But as it sets, so doth it rise.

So here I stand, waiting for the dawn.