Subtle secret of feet that come and go,
leading the mind wherever she may choose,
dear shadow buried in cambric
and the lace of a skirt flowing down over the ground
as if to surround from heel to toe, floutingly,
this initiative by walking opens up a transient space
with its knowing double arrow,
very low and with the folds thrown back in a train.

Stéphane Mallarmé: »The white water lily«