as we mime the truth

Imaginary numbers
or infinity - let's pretend:
childhood all over
the equation - if we assume,
the hypothesis bled into belief,
we can calculate
as if it's true to discover
in the results that it must be
true because in all other scenarios
beauty will wilt, coffee go 
cold, time expand uncomfortably

so I sit outside in the dark
not believing, but acting as if
there is a step, and steady step
by confident step, the results
indicating more than a husk
as I doubt the existence 
of God, or Shade, yet assuming
the evidence to circumscribe
what must be, I can
create Eden in my mind,
just down the street,
around the corner, not quite
out of view, where cherry
trees blossom to pour forth
honey of the soul, to prove,
for an instant, there's heaven.