Remembering

I saw it all begin and end, thrown together in non-negotiable circumstances that forced them to be friends. Cautious and anxious until it wasn't, those friends,
who drove too fast at the Garden of the Gods, contemplating their angst at night in quiet,
who spent days on couches in cesspools, imagining impossible lives,
who studied for tests to tell them how much they were worth for the low price of $35,
who took too many pictures of nothing they will never forget, in sepia tones of self-assurance and hope,
who woke up at dawn to hold hands before the sun,
who learned secrets at a hungry 2 a.m., Free Pie Day in crusty booths,
who were forever and infinite in dark bright windowless car rides with music that burst in their chests and screams,
who said goodbye on street curbs,
who needed change but refused to want it,
who said they would never stop,
who cannot live it all again.