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There were three siblings of Mormyrid,

There were three siblings of Mormyrid,
a fam’ly nigh you’ll’ve seen;
Staunch in stance were they, these three,
a bubbling of a stream.

When asked what way they kiss,
one said, so slight,
as fear they’d might, but miss,
if wait holds long a night, good-kiss,
while others, wanting, cite
a stranger, swift in-tight to this;
yet one of two, who say they’d choose,
holds to host, as well past due,
shifting frame to window, scene
opened in a view by dream;
while third in last holds fast their heart,
having beat-drawn flight kept in spark
known in lip-sealed secret, ne’r from to-part

There were three siblings of Mormyrid,
a fam’ly ne’r you’ seen,
Staunch in stance were they, these three,
a bubbling of a stream.

When asked what way they kiss,
one said, so slight,
as fear they’d miss, but might,
if wait draws long, a kiss goodnight;
while others ‘cite
a wanting: stranger, swift but tight;
yet one says they’d choose,
a host, in-come
as well past due,
pointing to the window, open’d,
glassy, a scene as seen alone, by view;
while third, in last, holds fast their heart,
by having beat-drawn flight kept spark
as lipped & sealed a lover’s secret

originals of the Mormyrid. they don’t keep their tenses.

we are as the branches, seeded
Mormyrid

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musings & scribbles