White Whale Review: An Online Literary Magazine Untitled Document
Tina Borysthen-Tkacz graduated from Barnard College with a B.A. in English and art history in 2006, and now works as a publishing assistant in Cambridge, MA. She enjoys traveling (especially to New York City), cooking, exploring beaches and mountains, and reading anything and everything.
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Tina Borysthen-Tkacz


You found me sloshed against the phone cord
In narrow halting fluorescence
And brushed the biscuit crumbs from my face.


I hugged your avian frame, too light so I picked it up.
I will not break your bones.
Brittle like my grandmother’s, but still warm.


We caved up in the twin bed with plastic cider bottles
And sniffled head-to-toe.
I’m sorry you are always here when I am broken.


Venturing out at midnight
For a walkabout in embassy gardens
Some teenagers slowed their van,
Pelting warm bananas at us,
Tepid fruit embedded in soft velvet.


I’m sure that there were castles, and bagpipes,
But I can only feel the pavement on our sneakers
As we chased the vandals and laughed,

Hollow and delirious.

Copyright © Tina Borysthen-Tkacz. White Whale Review, issue 1.1

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