Writing 201: Poetry Day 7

Day 7 gave us fingers/prose poem/assonance.   Not sure if I managed it or not…

Gentle fingers linger on my swollen belly, trying to work out where she’s lying.  Some days I feel like crying when I think about the change that is about to come.  On those days, the movement seems like an alien being, wriggling and writhing, bits protruding here and there.  But when I’m calm, it’s like a warm balm to my skin and my soul, and I feel whole.

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