Am I permitted to be primitive

I buy to live.

I take roots, compile them into dreams.

I ignite what thermoglides me into
syllabic recognition of my love to speak.

I set my words like craft idolatry
and worship light on bark beneath every absence of word//.

I eat.

So hungry sometimes I look back,
compare the feast of freedom
with why I need.

Am I allowed to let the shape of things uphold me?

Just the tune, the beat of things?

Can I be arrested for receding into sound/breath/prayer

thats all me

or am I there at all unless I buy/work/speak