I arrive at Lucy’s apartment
at two in the morning
knock loud and long until
she groggily answers the door.
On the phone
she seemed psyched to have
her pseudo-little-sister
come crash.
I should have told her
when I was arriving
but threw all my change
into the basket for the GW Bridge
none left for a pay phone.
Lucy is wearing
her boyfriend’s shirt
down to her knees
face closed tight
against the hallway light.
“I’m here!”
I announce with a happy flourish.
She mumbles, “You sure are,”
on her way back to bed
I whisper it to myself again,
I’m here.