She Never Misses Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Some ladies say that snakes are like old swords
Swinging through the grass:
Romero tells me his name is actually spelled with an I,
But everyone calls him coyote, anyways:
Both of his parents are dead, but he has stopped drinking:
I have thought for some days that I am in love with
His sobrina, Alma- I have thought that I have been in love
Before- since kindergarten;
The thinking of love is what sustains me, but I do not
Think that snakes look like old swords swinging through the
Grass:
They should be ribbons there falling through the meadows
And caesuras of her hair and tresses,
Those esplanades of beauty that are spoken for, while he
Comes in heavy booted and muddies up the floor of her grotto,
Never seeing her how I see her for eight hours a day,
Needing the hiss of her curves: she is never straight but turning
Like the pressure on a bow,
Creating heat while her body swings and hisses: Alma,
The burning, burning soul:
She is not like a snake, but when she strikes, she never misses.