Striped Pyjamas

I laughed at you. You both were in pyjamas, striped like a prison suit and baggy at the top. I had my Sony aimed at you a toy that would record and faithfully keep safe that fragment of old times. When Robert was the one who always talked, and never let you speak except in praise of him. I was not present when, the unthinkable and final step occurred and he shut up, because now God was speaking, when no one is allowed to interrupt. So, may I ask you, to understand that I now must be told the truth. Did he get buried in those stripes?