Misty Goth Bond
Dancing with sweeping arms on a dance floor thick with haze from a fog machine, the eldergoth thought she saw her ex, wearing a PVC corset.
Her ex's thin waist sheathed in tight, shiny fabric gleamed like a forbidden diamond under diffused light. The eldergoth cried, lonely.
During a chorus, her ex spun like a ballerina on benzos. She saw it wasn't him, and yet tears wouldn't stop smearing her eyeliner.
She ran to the unisex bathroom to dab at her eyes and reapply makeup. Surely, she was just sensitive to chemicals in the fog. She's fierce.
A woman in a tutu and stompy boots emerged from a stall and joined her at the mirror to wash hands. Eyes meeting, they both flipped hair.
"What's the use of a fog machine when it's dark and rainy outside?" asked the woman. The eldergoth agreed. "Let's go dance with thunder."
Faces wet from gentle rain, they danced slow and close, and then kissed. Lipstick merged. Lightning flashed with a power surge of love.
They walked to the eldergoth's home, where an aromatherapy diffuser scented their first tryst with a dense floral cloud.
Lonely no more, every time it rained or fog blanketed the city, they celebrated their misty bond with a lingering, sultry dance.
S. Kay is a queer Canadian who writes one tweet at a time. She is
the author of RELIANT (tNY.Press, 2015), JOY (Maudlin House, 2016),
and LOST IN THE LAND OF BEARS (Reality Hands, July 2016). Follow her
on Twitter at @blueberrio.