Rest Well in Nets

You need us to hold more of you,
Need those of us who won’t spill you,
Won’t let you try to slip the cage

Of us, laced up tight, to go free.
And where would you go to, sans us?
You know what it’s like far from home,

When you’ve got no words in the tongue,
When you shut up and get as small
As you can and hope no one talks

To you. And that was just a taste
Of what your life would be, less us.
You, of all beasts, are least-well built

To be free on your own, no voice
Thick with sweet and tart clots of words
To speak for you. You have no gifts

That aren’t us or the taste of flesh,
And you won’t get far on your flesh,
Nor want to give it up. You will.

Come, nest in us, small fry, bird, mouse.
We are your words. Rest all in us.
In palm-frond nets of poems, now rest.