Zimmer Un-manned

Long night, early morn.

I was too long on the guitar, too little attention to her, and we both know it.

Blackmark to me.

Still, she's accepted my lift home.

As I turn the ignition, the CD kicks in and it's Dylan.

She turns with a smile.

Like a Rolling Stone and suddenly the misty morn takes life.

Is there another song - another singer? - that unites like Roberto?

She knows the words; I know every *nuance* and as we drive I do my know-all act 'til she puts a finger to my lips for silence.

The most intimate move in an evening that reeked of intimacy. It's perfect.

No other cars on the road and I drive too fast, but at the speed that suits.

Un-asked she finds my wad and rolls and lihts a perfect one, holding it up at windscreen focus.

Not to drone, but I find new nuances or insults every time I listen to That Song.

She knows the route better than I and asks me to pull over at the next bend.

We get out to watch the morning move in, leaving the Merc's door open for the song to wail out as we hug and kiss.