Through virtual windows, I peer and swipe,A catalogue of men, each prototype.No vows, no bonds, no legal decree,Just endless aisles of “What could be.” Migrating birds, they flit and roam,No nesting hearts, no solid home.Loyalty? A fleeting disguise,Lost in the glare of pixelated skies. Grindr’s ping, a digital bell,Announces sales of lust to sell.Swipe left,…