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[zzz-zierra]

I once wanted to die on the shore of Superior.

We started in Charlevoix. Experienced the odd gravity of Michigan's sand Dunes. The sand didn't burn or cut. We jumped from the highest peak. Levitated all the way down.

Crossed the bridge into Superior. No longer sand, but sharp pink mineral rock, torcherously carved like glaciers. I felt seen. His cold shoulder left fault lines in me. Razor sharp rock carved the pads of my feet.

These bodies, large enough to swell for the moon. The group of us watched the lightning fighting with itself- miles off the coast.

I decided to walk. Left my shoes at camp. Left a couple toenails in the cracks between boulders. Past the boundary, I saw a boulder jutting out of the water.

I sat and thought of how to get there. The waters were exploding against the rock wall.

I didn't get to my suicide that night. A storm rolled in over my mind. If I'd attempted to swim, I would have succeeded.

But I didn't.

In my dreams, I'm on that rock out in Superior.

Arms spread like Jesus. Lightning and waves take me.