new leather, sweet tobacco, cilantro stem, agate choker, really old book smell, unchecked rose garden, strawberry rhubarb slice
this walks the thin & sexy line somewhere between a light coiffable red n a savoury muscular rosé, it's dense & sinewy & brawny but pretty, aristocratic. like a pure bred hunting dog in an oil painting, or a wild horse. u can try to tame it but in it's heart, it'll always be a child of the wilderness, savage & instinctual & composed all at once, and eternally puzzling, like looking into the great dazzling distant third eye of nature, a thing we are at once essentially connected too & also fundamentally at odds w. oh but don't worry, it's not so serious - in the end we rest easy alongside the feral forces of this world because we are in fact not unlike them - savage, instinctual, composed. maybe have a sip of this freesia bouquet cranberry dirt juice n contemplate ur wild side, maybe even let it run free, there's no time like the present 2 be the wild horse u wanna see in the world.
every bottle of wine comes with a small bag of miss vickie's chips