Cleansed

I ran and ran for miles with my inner demons at my heels —
I ran until I collapsed under the weight of the world, burdened.
Aching.  Sore.
But then He took my hand and raised me to my feet.
“The cure for anything is salt water,”
He said
as we breathed in the ocean air
and soaked in the last rays of sun.
The sand brushed against my skin
grain after grain slipping past
until it lay beneath me
and I, beneath the water.
For it is here where origin sleeps
And where sweat and tears
cannot be differentiated from each other.
I washed up upon the shore
in the shallows of the beach.
“And the cure for anything is salt water,”
He said,
Carrying me like a pearl in His hand.

by Joan Claudine Quiba
12th grade, Kapolei High School