David Lamotte Follow

She's living in his lens cap
He's studying her light
Trying to find a still frame
Of the gracefulness of flight
Shooting up the pictures
Like a needle in his arm
Burning down the world around him
For a shot of something warm
But her wings won't fit on paper
There's no room for them to fly
The distance is too short between
The corners of the sky

The light is warm and precious
At the turning of the day
His shadow falls between them
Her shadow falls away
But he just can't seem to get it
Must be doing something wrong
Maybe chose the wrong exposure
Or held his breath too long
She watches while the sun sets
He sees the glowing tears
He slowly drops the camera
She disappears

And her wings won't fit on paper
There's no room for them to fly
The distance is too short between
The corners of the sky