Alluvial Fan: When parallel paths split, and split again, and again, because of obstacles, because of silt or other diversion, the branching pattern appears. An elegant answer.
Magnetic Trio: I have pulled you to me in every way I know. The rest is left to time and physics.
Family Group: Our first impulse is elbows up, defending the sharp edges that have been jabbing one another by way of additional sharp edges. At last, we round from friction like so many river stones.
Fluent in at least three languages: I do not speak Icelandic or Czech. Even though I visited both countries for a spell, thinking I would catch on when immersed, I found both languages to be firmly outside my grasp. Instead, all of the French and Spanish I know came fluttering up like loose bits of ashy paper from a smoldering fire.
Folds and Chains: Tender version of chemistry, come. I have made you a bed of sulfur, I have nursed you with calcium and carbon. Surely, you will be eased. Surely your platitudes will unfurl like linen banners.