White Oleander

erotic-as-power

• Oleander time. Lovers who kill each other now will blame it on the wind. She held up her large hand and spread the fingers.

  WO-001

• She stood in her white kimono, his blood on her knife. 'You don't know what I can do,' she said softly.

  WO-002

trauma-and-survival

• Everything on one side but my mother's letters, light as good night, a hand touching my hair. I played with my mother's old knife.

  WO-004

• She smacked me as she dragged me back, not caring about my scars. 'You ungrateful thing!' My childhood, my English garden, soaking the pavement.

  WO-009

self-and-identity

• I had freed myself from her strange womb, I would not be lured back. I knew exactly what there was to be frightened about.

  WO-015

• Beauty was my mother's law, her religion. You could do anything you wanted, as long as you were beautiful.

  WO-012