Blind.

[Psuedom]

The weakness I feel
The senses belie. 
I say it, she hears it,
Remaining naked to the eye.

I writhe in her ***,
Sensory magic of impact, of cold,
Yet the greatest trick 
is yet to be told.

Watching her fingers,
flicking and splaying, 
With every lash and hit
I'm found dismaying.

Flip the script,
My error is apparent.
My shortcomings
Become critically transparent.

With her blinded face
Gazing fruitlessly at the ceiling,
Great weight comes
From a deeply sickening feeling.

In the early days of trust
navigating accidental lies,
The deprivation was mime
from seeing her eyes.