We go out to dinner
I pull out her chair for her
We chat pleasantly
I pay the check
We go back to my place
I open a bottle of wine
We drink together
I lean in and we kiss
We move to the bedroom
I undress her and myself
We fuck, she moans
I fall asleep
The televisions in every room
play the same thing
on mute:
a man and a woman are sitting down to eat.
the man pulls out her chair.
handkerchief tied to stick 
Did I not comment on this? I love this poem. It very much reminds me of the lucid moments where I’m wondering when things get original again. Awesome prose by the way. This post made me a follower.
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