His Story, Was It History?

I was blinking. When you snapped that photo. The laugh was stuck in your throat, amidst the laughter in the grotto. Frozen in the times of the old. The photo captures us in the fold. He, she, me, they, you. All of us together, tinged with deep blue. Royally golden was her hair, shimmering past the slender neck, down to the shoulder blade. Their hands clasped so tight you could see the cellulite. Lacing together their bond. Flaring and flashing and wild in direction. His hair flamed us to action. The photo froze us to slumber. Motionless, paused. One blinking, one mirthful, one wrapped in gauze. Another two together, encased in forever, the word 'never' to be uttered, in that moment their hearts fluttered. Coffee-stain on the back. A single note, written in black. "2009" Thats way back. Do you remember?