Invocation of Almost

Almost in the beginning was the murderer
 And I fell faceless into the world
 Unaware the moon had changed its face
 Hallucinatory Mountain arose Atlantine
 Constellations warped
 Shed wings
 Anointing tyranny of stars
 I arose as Aleph, the Speller, the Killer
 In my mind fractal texts
 Broken grammars
 Droning like honey
 Sweeter than
 Ziggurat, ⲁⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲉ
 The voice or squeal or fear of Thunder
 The thrushfaced Seven
 Stars masking the reeds
 In the middle of Aleph
 As a coiled comet, the meteor
 Murderer
 My head was red as moons
 Bubbling with threats
 Doubled like the Trinity I shed
 Under the river with the dog and the child
 I speak speech and build the Wall again
 And close off the storehouse
 I dreamt nail veils on the Ka'aba
 Dragging the Khabs
 Build towers of voices screaming
 Astaroth dr eamed vials of sap
 I had one gold volume and whispered
 "Can I go back to your Satanic flat?"
 Killed spiders cold and ford black becks
 Cheeks as red as pomegranates
 Astaroth blushing curtseying
 Smiling "Kiss the bride"
 Or "Time is the Crime"
 Or "I am true to you as the bluebirdbloodface
 Full of grace and lice and moss and confusion"
 Tiny voices like thumbs
 Arise from Aleph as I was/am/shall be
 On the Hallucinatory Mountain
 Full of troubles and colours
 And the sound of the sand
 The perpetual Virgin of Evidence
 Sly ghosts hover like gold
 And pricks hunger for cats imagined
 Burning as sadly as the sun
 So where do I start unreal?
 I was stripped by time
 Part of time
 In its flow, its fields
 Its mirrors, masks
 Strut around me
 But bending me too
 Did it take me with it?
 Was I floating above it?
 Through it?
 I was an oracle for nothing at all
 Not even the birds breaking faces to my past
 Back in the form of the Mountain
 I envisaged the women
 Open to me as 93 Thelemic 93 flowers
 The folds splay crazily and shining
 Their fast unfurling sunbeams
 Forcing bright smudges in my past
 But in my mind July or gorgon
 The flowers shut
 Spring snap sharp and lock
 The door and gate and vial and fountain
 The fields of rape were barley or wheat
 Barely beds for the Killer waiting
 Giddy with spores
 I planted my past
 In all who approached
 And prayed for Babron
 Lined phrases/boxes
 Hymned the breeze