After RVW

[Mungosmungo]

After RVW

I won’t catch up with you, your white I know you told us that Opulent was the name of a bar, but that still doesn't really give the reader much meaningful context. It certainly was not plain to me when I read through it. If you are going to allude to something, then try and make it decipherable. I suppose the fact that it is a bar does kind of put it in context though... kind of.
Opulent decadence, swirling between General angels are not seen as decadent. That is, they are not characterized by the decline of a society due to overindulgence, aha. It seems a redundant and poorly considered choice of words here; opulent followed by decadence, seeing as they are almost synonyms. Almost I kind of like it though... strange how that works.
sequined skirts of a modern Asian angel –
and cheating Indian waiters with cheap seconded the above point made, how does opulent decadence, already a fantastic image that evokes very little, swirl between 'cheating' waiters with 'souring white wine'. This metaphor seems so convoluted, aha
glasses of souring white wine. I might even is this the same 'white' that describes the opulent decadence earlier? I doubt you intended that; be prepared when people read too much into your poems when you do stuff like that
rock my shoulders to the diaphragm The image of 'rocking my shoulders to the diaphragm of poetry' escapes me. Perhaps something about moving your body in time with her poetic verse... or something less sappy. Just... a phrase more evocative than 'the diaphragm of poetry' which feels less like poetry and more like a riddle.
of your poetry, and balance on the edge
of your wide brimmed glasses – again! – This eludes me as well
to the point where champagne has grown stale 'to the point where' makes this line feel clunky to me. I'm sure there is another, less verbose way of stating that. I enjoy the imagery here though; champagne's de-fizzling being equated to stuttering is pretty good. The thing is... after that part about the champagne, everything seems to get muddled. How does a hand yawn???
and stuttering, my hand in yours
yawns across the night –
count the drops of the pool and then run away this pool seems to be a strange conjuring of the imagination that sprouted up out of nowhere. Nowhere earlier did you mention a pool... So I am utterly and completely lost.
because taxi was waiting. aaaaand tense issues.

All in all it was a pretty good poem. I enjoyed your work and I hope to see more from you in the future. Hopefully some of my advice was helpful