Take me to church (Sergei Polunin)

(Written after watching him dance to this song by the Hoziers)
You begin your last dance,
so you thought,
a dark dance that chased you out of childhood.
In the spotlight, something had starved,
and here in a white chapel
you grip the very edge
of all you have become,
believing it to be the end.
In a snap of muscle and sinew
you are the arch
through which your soul pours
in paraphrase,
not formal, practiced poise.
You spring up, one handed and fly out
over the boards.
Butterfly lightness of flight.
Projectile velocity.
Impossible height.
Reversed thunder.
You skid your friction toes 
and stricken,
brace the window frame.
These matchbox walls
cannot contain the
flickering spin,
the whiplash,
speed scorched,
blood boiling,
plummet and streak of you.
Good God!
Someone is weeping.
Her tears are falling into my hands.
You have found a hundred ways 
to fall on your knees
and kiss the ground.
This is the place where you discover
how to love the world.
(Borrowed words from George Herbert and Rumi)

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