by Grace Davis
Grace Davis is a writer and artist born and residing in Baltimore, Maryland. Davis earned a BFA in Interdisciplinary Sculpture at the Maryland Institute College of Art in 2015. Their practice is informed by experiences of trauma and illness, pre-apocalyptic realities, ASMR eroticism, science and spiritual fiction, and concepts of time. Davis has authored and self-published three collections of poetry, the most recent being a collection of poetry and prose entitled Husk (2017). Davis' collection of poetry, J.A.D., received accolades in Baltimore City Paper’s Top Ten Books of 2016. Their writing has appeared in Leste Magazine, Her Library, her walls, and with Talking Book audiobook publishers.
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I watched your dying quietly. We both understood why the house was ever occupied. Things there were no room for, things you wanted to keep. All I can think of is our bodies stressed. Upon the body shutting down and the heart stopping, it takes a few minutes for the brain to begin to liquefy and drip out of nose, ears.
when person becomes body becomes form becomes spirit becomes angel
my belief in bacteria
bees pollinate the ground flowers
all tollbooth operators are sleeping
my love for many is like an undying, multi-faced watch
In My Heaven ———— In Your Heaven
In dust baths
men sit on their mother’s backs ground pollen humming
tunnels devoted to scientists sleeping toll booths you can call a friend
all shade loving flowers glow in abundance
he says he’s lost his color