The Final Supper

The five days and four nights have passed oh so quickly.
Sitting here looking into is eyes across the table, I regret ever displeasing him.
His smile is infectious.
Melancholy sets in and I wonder whether I will ever get to see it again..
Wrinkles mark every inch of his face,
Each one bearing a different tale, though
Only telling half of the story.
His glittering eyes fill in the blanks.
Unimaginable depths warm the coolest of breaths.
Cheers! to bushy, overgrown eyebrows, electric shavers, and a great dinner.
Drink up and fill yourself with their warmth.
Drink deeply so that it may tide you over until the next visit.
Time is waning, though no one is glum.
We insist on a joyful departure, marked with well-wishing and excitement for, Someday, a return.
The time has come to pass around the wave of a hug.
The party stands in honor of the moment.
Solemnity marks our faces, though
Broken here and there by forced smiles and laughter.
My turn now.
Look him in those glittering eyes.
Grip him tightly around the waist. Tight as possible.
I never want to let go, but time is ticking and I relinquish my grasp.
A soft kiss on the cheek and I bid him farewell, but not adieu.