Mallarme, via Derrida (Mallarme's text, Derrida's ellipses)

The judgment or axiom to affirm, when it comes to ballet!

That is, that the dancer _is not a woman dancing_, for these reasons
juxtaposed that she _is not a woman_ but a metaphor summing up one of the
elementary aspects of our form (sword, cup, flower, etc.) and that _she
is not dancing_, suggesting, through a marvel of short cuts or surges,
with her bodily writing what it would take paragraphs of prose dialogue or
description to express on paper : a poem freed from any scribe's equipment ...
The dance is wings ; it concerns birds and takeoffs into the ever-after, along
with returns as vibrant as an arrow ... One of the lovers shows them to the
other, then shows himself, an initial language, comparison.  Little by little
the couple's demeanour turns, under the dovecote's influence, to a series of
little pecks or leaps, swoons, until an invasion of aerial lasciviousness slips
over them, with breathless resemblances.  Once children, here they are
birds, or the opposite, from birds they have become children, according to
how one wishes to view the exchange in which forever after, he and she,
would have to express the double game : perhaps the whole adventure of
sexual difference! ... with the intercalation of a celebration toward which
everything will turn under a sudden storm, and then the anguishing lovers,
one ready to flee and the other to forgive, will unite : it will be ...  You
can imagine the hymn of the final triumphal dance in which the space put
between the fiances by the necessity of their journey diminishes down to the
source of their joyful exhilaration! ... [the dancer] sums up the subject
through her divination mingled with pure, disturbing animality, designating
at every turn uncompleted allusions, just as she invites, before any step,
with two fingers, a quivering fold of her skirts and simulates an impatience
of plumes toward the idea ... Then, through a kind of commerce whose secret
her smile seems to pour forth, without delay she imparts to you,
through the last veil that remains forever, the nudity of your own concepts,
and silently proceeds to write your vision in the manner of a Sign, which
she is.