Dirt

her feet run recklessly
through the soft dirt.
her skin moves
with such precision.
the rubble fights
with her soles,
as she runs without pause.
why does she run,
like time will fail
if she stops?
why does the dirt,
chase after her
like it’s winning a contest?
why do i feel,
so drawn to the girl
who floats so effortlessly,
through meadows of
destitution and pennilessness,
like it’s so far below her
though it runs after her flesh?
who wins the race in the end?
when does the dirt give up the fight?
because there is no beating the girl
when dreams chase after desires.