My own private black swan

I had my no sleep face for breakfast
Spoons tournament and black coffee
The lady told me about a picture
I took three years ago
Of her and a french actor she liked.
She thanked me again and again,
- starting on the boiled egg machine,
checking the level of the waffle mixture -
like I was an important part of the whole picture
although I wasn’t on it.
I was polite and smily but my heart
was full of clouds and fresh memories
you can’t capture with a camera.
Would you like anything to eat ? she said,
in the empty place filled by dawn
No thank you, I replied, I had
my no sleep face for breakfast.
All was quiet and quiver anyway
since the day before this one
I was expecting something
Sweet and spectacular.
Something
sweet
and spectacular,
Like two hands dying to meet again
By surprise
In the dark.