I fall in love one woman at a time.
Unfortunately, there is a high turnover.
I do not protest that it’s not a crime
To have each fleeting week a different lover.
It’s quite a curse: the girl who seemed so sweet
At lunch now tastes of saccharine no more.
How can I trust the heart whose every beat
Is out of step with what has gone before?
So now my hope is fickle time will slow
The way a train’s long slowing for the station
Seems the widening of time itself,
Until each second with you seems to grow
To an eternity, till I can shelve
All restless thoughts of looming devastation.

Hsien Min Toh

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