Wanting to change my life, I write with Chardonnay.
After all, wasn’t it about the suffering, Sauvignon’s lack
of irony? For example, why would you go with me to all those places,
if you weren’t going to come back here?
Is it because, between them, I could never decide:
white that is closer to water, to thirst; but red,
the taste of your mouth, water into wine?