but my aunts          love Montreal

its groceries full of women with kohled eyes                 the instructor

complimenting their French             all its snow & four layers of socks

they bundle their children into scarves                 tug the Arabic

from their mouths               teach each             to speak good            my oldest

cousin           cleans compulsively                                  Crystal

I watch her organize pillows           in the shape of the apartment in

Damascus          she is my mother’s favorite           quiet           eyes to the brim with

cotton              the women here                never spill