Street of Dreams

It seems I’ve been here forever and yet I can’t remember how I arrived or even where I am. All I see is white, stretching on for eternity, a vast expanse of nothing but the snow falling and falling. Swirling and swirling around me, I am trapped in it’s icy web. The powder conceals a mirror of ice beneath, I take a step, it cracks. Seven years bad luck. It seems I’m amidst my bad luck already. What is this place? Am I cold? My body seems long past the convulsions of common feeling. Though I suppose I must be cold trapped in this sparse landscape. The gingerbread houses line me like prison guards, they show only coal interiors, black as the night and twice as cavernous. The pearlescent blizzard creeps ever closer, there is no comfort here.
But what’s that ahead? A figure, bright and striking as a flame, I pray you give me warmth in this desolate city. She turns, ah beauty. Her hair as dark as a ravens wing, her skin more fair than the snow it penetrates, and her lips. Those lips. Rose red as ever there were. Wait fair maiden do not walk so fast, I crave to know you better. Your mystery deepened by this feeling of familiarity. Crimson angel tell me your name, do not leave me confused. Lily perhaps? No that does no justice. Rose? No, your aesthetics please me far more than that of a mere flower, and yet I am not afraid. How do you navigate this blank canvass so?
Do not quicken your step beautiful creation, you are too far ahead already. I wonder what would be had I it in my power to catch you. A gentle blush in your cheek perhaps as I’d take your hand and lead you away from this terrible place. Were it within my means I should take you to the stars above, see them pale in comparison to your demeanour yet bask in their beauty none the less.
Siren you have bewitched me, I pray you look upon me, I may not have such a splendid countenance but I swear I have it in myself to show you the love you deserve. Oh do not make haste wondrous creature, you have ensnared me as a spider ensnares a fly. Allow me the privilege of your hand. Your beauty is like nothing I have witnessed in my humble existence and yet exactly as I imagine beauty to be. You are surely the goddess Venus come to torment these poor, weary bones, and yet I follow. I can do nothing but. If this is torture then I am its willing victim if it means I may look upon your face.
What is this place you lead me to Venus? These cast iron bars and decaying trees are no place for one such as you. Why should we twist and turn within this maze? The blanket of snow falls quicker my love, I can barely see you. It falls around your form like blossom. Where is this? Where are you? It seems all is lost in a sheet of white. I cannot see my hands before my face, call out to me sweet Siren.
Ah, I see you, just barely. Why do you kneel between these stones sweetheart? Alas they are graves! Why do you mourn so my angel? Why do you lay flowers here? Can I not take this pain from you?
Why can I not place my hand upon your shoulder? Why, it is my name there, etched in stone. This cannot be and yet I remember now. You loved me once and I you. Oh my love do not cry, we are beyond that now, our love shall be written in the stars, forever and a day. I will watch over you angel, do not mourn me for I am here.

As sunrise broke the snow covered mound was revealed. No one knew how long she had stayed in the abandoned mortuary. A night, perhaps two. Her skirt frozen in folds about her, cradling the ice-nipped roses, their frozen beauty drowned by that hellish place.