last lines

for years it went forgotten, those words, that phrasing, sleeping like bears since the first time i knew them. twelve years ago, the spring, sentiments spilling between us, we gushed, eager as a pants zipper, coming undone in the hands of another. it came back to me, like a loved thing set free, the line to end all lines, the last thing i'd write when i wrote it all. something to race towards. and with it, you, a stranger in name only, a king in my checkered past, a bug in the dustpan, swept in as you once were prone... the memory, like my sentence, lighter than words, thicker than air.