If I Had Ten More Minutes Poem by Savannah Oakes

If I had ten more minutes
and my voice was not faint
nor my face so devoid
or my mind so blank,
I would profess—

But I'm afraid of words
which might betray lips,
For what is kept
is of my eyes—
that impulsive organ
I've attempted to stray;
hooded, hazed.

Construing a montage
ever playing:
concerns, worries
fears, and doubts,
Come to life
in bursting light
whilst straining in the dark.

And if such creations
could speak—
or better
could be heard—
through the mist of passion
And masks of pride,

I would profess
All in my heart;
Every quaint murmur
Forsaken night and night.