You’re not ready, not really, but the cork’s already out and now it’s happening. Fast. Unexpected. It splashes into the glass with a deep, bruised-plum hue—way darker than you thought your first time would be.
You take a sip too big. It stains your lips. It’s juicy and wild and totally unfiltered, like someone biting your neck without warning. There's crushed black cherries, a twist of pepper, a glug of energy that says “don’t think—just feel.” Tannins? Barely. It slides in without resistance, soft but thrilling.
You laugh. It’s not graceful. It’s better.
And just like that, you’re changed. Not wiser, maybe, but warmer, looser, messier. And God, aren’t you already reaching for another glass?
Best with salty meats, greasy pizza, or that leftover roast you were saving for someone special.
