There were three siblings of Mormyrid,
a fam’ly nigh you’l’ve seen.
Stance was staunch in they, these electric three,
from bubbling in a stream.
When asked what way they’d kiss,
one said, of slight, they’d likely miss,
in fear of sight or grow’ of cyst,
as loosened draws a tight to this.
Other, wanting, ‘scribed of stranger,
swift in task, a pose of danger,
drawing scene, a dream, of window, hanger,
hastened to by call of anchor.
Third held highest heart, their fasting beat,
drawn of flight, a spark in keep,
to be, lips know, as strong, but meek,
for wait is worth more than who may seek.
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