in my dreams my friends and I
take our cameras into the mountains
and snap pictures of our genitalia
laying up against mountain rocks

in the winter sun, shrivelling in the light
the army comes to steal our cameras
and chase us down off the mountains

into the land of parking garages and quick restaurants
where we try to find a darkroom to lie down with

and a lover leaves her camera
on the floor of my rented room
where I have assumed a false identity
that has become more real to me
than the name given me by my parents