I like this. It's kind of glitzy in the scene setting and it has many qualities of good prose actually, because it sort of tells a short story while keeping the small window of a poem to frame the idea of things slipping out. Alcahol does make us say things and I like the idea of fraudien slips being mixed with drink, it's a strange wording that seems to work.
Is Citrine a colour? What's its significance?
It's a good encapsulation of a night out, sort of lyrical like you might make a song out of the theme. It doesn;t get very dark or heavy, the closest is maybe stale-mate at life but even that line in context sounds like it's refreshing to meet an impasse, or be challenged. And anyway, dark and brooding is not always good. I enjoyed the general swoon of this, and I can't really give you any advice on how to make it better. Just seems like it's capturing a general feeling well.