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
