Pumpkin Cake TV

The ink dries faster than the sand, yet leaves no stain.
I am the weight of silent echoes in empty halls.
My shape is constant, yet I vanish in every shadow cast.
Beneath the pulse of static, my voice is neither here nor there.
I am the key that forgets its own lock.
When the sun lies down, I stretch across the waking world unseen.
Touch the glass, and find me waiting on the other side.
-KphkfdiXvfzOQ

.--. .- .-. - --- -. .- ... - .. -.-. -.-