Sublimation from Neglect

I am forgetting words
native words,
first language words,
words filled with mother’s milk.
 
They left without notice.
Sin adiós,
after all a diós
is to god.
 
One day they stood,
 
and disappeared like this morning’s fog
--thick and eloquent like soup,
so quickly insubstantial I wonder
if I dreamt the fog, the words.
 
Simple words like hum and antimony,
what made me think of them?
Their absence?
I want the need for their song.