Whispers....

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There floats
about me
around me
a softness that whispers
to me.
No secrets there,
but intimate
feelings uttered
fleetingly.
I take those in
roll them over
and then sometimes
can make sense.
I am reassured
of the truth
of holding on
quietly
to my choices
and my beliefs.
I am not 
a sacrifical goat
at some altar.
My body is not
an object of art.
It is the living temple
of the eternal flame
of love and creation
never to be
extinguished.