A date that hasn't happened yet

We went to dinner and I was nervous. The alcohol didn't help.
I saw my koan, 'relax', fall over like a rigid board; ponderous and with a flat thud.
Caressing the ground rather than slapping it.
Maybe you didn't hear it because you were calm and expectant.

You chose the wine and said some words like 'nutmeg' and 'rosemary' and I said 'white'.
We talked about music and family and tried each others food.
The eggplant was my favorite and the fish in the buttery sauce was yours.
I noticed I like the way you had your hair cut and when you smiled I felt I'd done something right.
I started grinning in sympathy.

I told you about the time I was bombarded by a Salmon, you told me about how you broke your kid brothers arm.
I can't remember how they're connected.
We decided to have desert down at the pancake place.
I took your hand to lead you through a crowd waiting outside a pub.
We kept holding hands as we walked.