knobs

Sky spills over
silhouette of ghostly clouds
fading pink
drops of diffusing wine
into crystal clear water..
air filled with tinkling shards.
Vodka smells
upon my hand, my pale palm
my warmth seeking fingers on the glass..
wandering around checked tablecloth,
stained with fallen foods
and lost alcohol...

And grinny faces making rounds
flocks of laughter
known, unknown, grim, glee
I remember of Golden knobs
I once held.
which brought them here.
which brought me here.