I Have Made You Presents

So alien have I been cleansed,
Sight was the last to go.
Blurred dancers caper to
The click of insistent typists

Working late to provide alibi.
Hearing was the penultimate casualty,
Hums come from machinery once
Providing syllables of elocutionary grace.

Stepping backwards for once on time,
Breath had been the latest victim.
Expanding lungs triple in size,
Still dots warn of approaching night.

From here my offense begins,
Taste was the first taint removed.
Dullness in what were once delights
Abounds in all I consume.

All my faculties useless
When not in your presence.
You exude a glow
As of vague phosphorescence.
Of my heart and soul
I have made you presents.