Capetonian winters are orange at night.
When I wake up in the middle
Of an unsettling dream.
Capetonian winters seem orange at night.
For weeks now I counted the stars
From my bed’s safest spot.
The wind is disguised as thunder these days
And it’s the city lights, I think,
All mingling with the mist,
Which make Capetonian winters look orange
At night, when I make space for you,
In my bed’s safest spot.
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