I languish in lack
Abound in absence
And my visage 
Reflects yours
If anything at all.
Imitation is flattery,
Say those 
Who know nothing
Of either.
Perhaps,
My emotionless adoration
Exists in your vision,
Beautifully speculative and subjective.

Who exists in terms of self?
Without an other,
Familiarity is absurd.
Who can know
What he always sees?
In this way,
I present myself 
To your judgement.
If you truly love me,
Make me beautiful.