Driving home from Soho, London. The Finchley Road is busy, a huge McDonalds articulated lorry follows another truck, and these behind two double decker buses. As they manoeuvre they're taking up more than their lane, encroaching on my land.

I make a mistake, judge the lanes wrong, end up behind the lorry. A VW Polo nips by. But my Mini is smaller and easily jinks in behind. I follow at a respectful distance as the Polo deftly negotiates the rolling blockade. The driver has grace, and my appreciation. A style akin to my own.

The lights are red. The driver pulls up and I slip alongside, glance over. A woman, late 20s, smiling; a connection. We pull away together, jockeying for position. Pressing on and I pull away, cruising nonchalantly, deliberately. I get six or seven lengths ahead... then bam, red lights again.

I see her light pattern in the rear-view and in seconds she's alongside as we turn from one road to another. She's going my way. I make ground again and it's a full 5 minutes before I again see the angry glow of a bank of red. I consciously haven't let the gap get insurmountable; before I move off she's there again, diving between two cars to ensure her place at my side.

This time I get a megawatt grin and laughing eyes - at the next few stops a volley of surreptitious glances between us.

The penultimate roundabout on my journey arrives too soon. I sense her position, and we deliberately slow - make the paths we are about to take clear. She's alongside on the curve of the roundabout and we look over at each other as she peels away. Smiles. A spontaneous wave.

She's gone. The wave provides a satisfying conclusion. The short remainder of my journey spent with a silly grin.
I drive at night, trying to keep my mind off you
Counting down the hours, reaching through the fields
The orange city glow is no match for the sky’s dark blue
My eyes are wide, reflecting street lights, and how I feel
You are there, dissolving into my monochrome windscreen
Floating gently over the hills damp with early dew
Its droplets in the black and purple sun gleam
That human full of nature that is you
The animals and woodlands strain against your skin
Melded to cogs and wheels of steel that slowly turn
The symbiosis of machines, the perfect königin
With forests’ fires and flowing furnaces brightly burn
I watch you recede, chasing the moon across the sky
And turn my full-beams on with a contented sigh

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