Equinox Poem by Norman F. Santos

As I stand before you the picture gets clearer;
Clear as the dermis of the sun perching aloft
The hands of clock would fritter away
Your incinerating flame would freeze
And scrape my skin into films
Light will cease out, darkness will cave in
The shadows will envelope territories
But would hang a bloated ball
It would absorb your entity
As I shall waste my own.
Parallel equity, omnipresence.
If I quit your world
Would you be renowned?
Would I live my own?