translation

i've come home swirling
and i won't allow any questioning about it.
i've seen the light
die by fades
but i'm yet to see you, neighbor,
rejoice in much of
anything.
your questioning seems elegant
to the decided among us,
asking an explaination for the spilled purse.
my insecurities make you
some fonder of a prince,
diddling little locusts of kill,
little buzz moments that make me
chuckle, sobering
the drafted aggregate.

the doubts sure seem to convert
clearer than the epiphanies,
hand cupped to ear in interpretation.
i think some slant must be lost
in the double-sided mirror
of translation, of trekking too far from
a language one was born speaking