
Crystalline, weightless, almost painful in its precision. Slate and white peach and something impossibly pure. Off-dry but you barely notice — the sweetness is just enough to hold the grief in place.
Matched to the wine's region, weight, and weather — not the other way around.
Crystalline, weightless, almost painful in its precision — Theo's grief in liquid form.
Pure and precisely held, like a thought Stevens would allow himself once and never revisit.