Believe me! He is real; but, she doesn’t exist.
On your screen, her photo – a deliberate fabrication
akin to the menace of malware and Photoshop
manipulated by a jackass in O-Town1 with ill intent
is not your moonshot cure to midlife’s loneliness.
Her gestures – a sham caught by your webcam
made real by an app is a decoy;
such a face has never been captured by a camera nor
her profile with the right resume to lure genuine –
sell not the bear’s hide before hunting it down.
You’ll wire cash for airfare from Abuja
for her to meet you in the flesh, time and again
he’ll defer, keeping you in expectancy like Christ’s coming
only to ask for more dough over and over;
she’s not the elixir to that excitement brewing in your foreskin.
Beware before you click;
pay attention; otherwise, you’re in a fix.
She’ll change your online dating experience for good,
save your love for another
he’s a con; you’re his maga2.
Copyright © Ugo Nkwoala | Spilledwoords.org | 2020