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.
bluemama 
Nicely written, and honest, but then, you strike me as being an honest person…
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Thanks! I try to be. My blog tries to tell my situation as it is rather than how society would like it to be x
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Respect to you for that! It sends out the message that it’s ok not always to feel the way we are expected to. If I were in your situation, (which is pretty unlikely as I’m 60 years old) reading your blog would make me feel less alone.
Good for you!
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What kind words thank you x
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I like this poem. I’m a fan of prose poems. And you even managed to work in the word ‘fingers’ 🙂
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