What's Different Poem by david e golledge

She asks -
what's different?
And I can't really say.

It's intangible,
unquantifiable,
but the world seems to spin
with less gravity
since her coming.

I don't float now,
I'm just less weighed down.
Lighter.
Brighter.

Less distracted by doubts, questions,
misguided thought.
Only she could bring
the cohesion I sought.



She says -
I don't want to be the same,
and she's not.

I try to make it obvious,
blatantly so,
that the stars seem to burn
with more abandon
since her coming.

I'm not blinded now,
just more aware.
Clearer.
Cleaner.

More unwilling to cover, hide,
adopt disguise.
I'm naked when lost
in her gentle eyes.