You were not carved from love, but need. A tool I happily threw out. Yet your awakening woke in me A joy I had long gone without.
	In silvered glass appeared a sweet Reflection where none was before. Aloof perfection saw it and Found something else she might adore.
How strange to take such pride in you, Because until you came along, Oh! All I valued was myself. Who else has ever proved me wrong?
	The crystal window's touch is cold Though smooth, to the two reaching hands, And yet despite the sovereignty It will not yield to your demands.
Before, alone, (as none compared) But now I do not want to be. My other self, my daughter-twin, My Galatea - come to me.
	You may not pass the mirror's plane Unless you break the surface fair. Don't think yourself Narcissus when Instead you are poor Echo's heir.