I was born an island; seeking.
we all have a mother (wound.)
I remember: the spilling kitchen sink
: shrimp fried rice and cockroach poison
: the scent of my father’s cigarettes
: Department of Children and Family Services
the lie I live, is true.
about this writing
last week I learned about this wonderful writing form – six-word memoir – this week I put together a chapbook (another new-to-me writing form) here I’ve used the six-word memoir form to share a bit from my chapbook; titled “foster-to-adopt”. do you have a six-word memoir? you can share it with me in the comment box below or at stephaniemsg13@gmail.com or for a more public share click here ~ be well, & thanks for reading, Stephanie
santos scribes 
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