Velvet Sunset

Pulled up in your old ride,

windows down, hearts open wide.

You play that track we used to burn—

I smile, but still feel the yearn.

Streetlights blink like pieces of our past,

every glance a photograph.

You laugh and sip your cherry drink,

but, baby, you know just what I think.

We said we’d never circle back,

yet here we are, drifting off track,

my hand on yours as time folds in half.

We’re driving through a velvet sunset,

colors bleeding where our hearts first met.

Your voice still echoing in my head,

your look—something I can’t forget.

We try so hard to let it rest,

but this love refuses to fade like the rest.

You hum the hook you always knew,

the one I wrote when love was new.

And even now, through all the miles,

I’d crash again just for your smile.

Maybe we were meant for chapters,

not forever, not disasters—

but tonight it doesn’t feel wrong,

not when the air still smells like our song.

We’re driving through a velvet sunset,

every regret turned silhouette.

And I don’t know where we go next—

I just know this moment feels perfect.

Let the sun fall behind us slow…

If this is goodbye, don’t let it show.

— Orielle