Here2011/I

Storyteller:
The astronomer carries a veil of pure darkness. Dawn is a disorienting agent, he says. The stars are there all the time. He embroiders maps on massive blankets threaded with spider webs and cocoon casings. Gemstones form planets. Satin tassels are meteors. He builds a dome over the turf to trap the darkness, marking the circle of horizon, then lashing sticks to form a frame. Over this he carefully drapes his heavy black blankets, painstakingly pierced with April's constellations. When it rains, the stars strip into shining puddles on the Earth. The needle grows slick and dangerous in his hand.