they define ‘hiraeth’
as a kind of doomed longing –
your childhood bedroom is someone else’s now
and your hometown doesn’t exist –
they see dandelions,
a beloved film,
their grandmother’s hands,
safe old gummy nostalgia
recurrent as a mourning dove –
meanwhile your language gapes like a missing tooth, chewing absence,
shallow-rooted songs isochronous as a ghost –
if a language dies and there’s no one left alive who gives a shit
did it ever make a sound at all?
every time I apologise it still comes out in english.
Brân Denning is a writer, poet and academic from South Wales. He is currently completing his Master’s Degree in Literary Studies and working on a collection of short fiction.