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You KNEW that I loved you. You KNEW that I was in love poetry with you. You told me I was the "hottest and sexiest and smartest" woman you had ever been with. [He dangled the preposition, not I.] poetry I met all of your friends. I went to two of your company's office parties. I even met your parents, your brother and your sister. You convinced me poetry that we had a "special spiritual connection." You belong in Dante's Ninth Circle of Hell. It is reserved for those who are guilty of "treachery against those to whom they were bound by special ties." They (which now includes you) are BENEATH the pagans, carnals, gluttons, heretics, thieves and even those who are violent against their neighbors, against themselves or against GOD... I HATE YOU. NOW AND ALWAYS. So, at the seasoned age of 35, I'm now back on the single's chopping block again. But I'm stronger, wiser...and
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