First Love

Leaden by time,
textured sandpaper,
she is a mystery,
Not Agatha, or Queen.

On her back Angelo
complacent and free.
"Livingston's Seagull".

Her breath rises and falls
like the tide ruffled,
and smooth.
I participate from the outside.

I saw her yesterday,
the day before,
but not after.

She leaves me wandering
from house to house,
Sigmund Freud, Carl Jung,
but there aren't any clues
just imprints flushed on my mind.

Robert Allison
28/04/79