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Viterbo University > TOUCHSTONE Magazine > Issue 67 > Literature > Radio I

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Radio I

By Nick Kotek

She climbs from sleepy holes within her bed
And she sheds her skin like she is dying in
The shower before she walks out the door.
She goes to work and talks to patients like
She is a tiger, but inside she feels
Her walls caving in. She leaves office halls
To walk the city streets in evening winds.
Children play beneath her sighs and blue skies.
She pities the ones that have been touched by
The hands that generate traumatic wounds.
Someone is watching in the shadows, she
Speeds her pace to make it through hungry crowds.
Reaching destination she slams the door.
I am the radio inside her mind.
I am what she fears by day, feels at night.

She lies under sunlamp in bedroom walls.
Sunlight is her only friend, but outside
He's starting to fade. He shades purple night
Horizon, even gods need some sleep.
And she lies there safe by TV light,
Channels fading can't save the helpless ones.
She hopes insomnia will fill her veins,
Can't take the unwilling to prison gates.
But radio's calling through TV lines,
She disappears with him again tonight.

As sleep lights fade she enters dead cities.