Lost Language: Jasmine Merriman and Robyn Hill
I could hardly speak in the German tongue,
I began to talk like a number, no longer a name.
‘You probably don’t remember, you were too young’
In the Hours of blackness,
‘it’s not actually real’, she’d say,
This is not actually on earth.
But the name of the town is common.
It was masters and slaves, gods and subhumans
and I thought to myself: No one
I have always been scared of asking who’s still alive,
as if I’m watching some made-up horror film
I grew saintly and thin and essential as the blade of a knife.
I never let it penetrate that my parents were killed.
I still have the scars from it today.
We had a quiet life
‘After this we’re going home and everyone will be there again.’