You were walking down Ninth Avenue with me,
obviously seeking to maintain my speed
as we passed light
after light after light.
You wore a tight halter top,
a tight pencil skirt,
fishnet tights
– you were generally tight
and pretty all right.

I noticed the glances
you threw my way,
increasingly so
as first my breath faltered
and then my pace
and finally my heart rate.

Things got a little hazy
after I fell,
but I think when I came to
I saw you leaning over me
providing a great view
of your lacy bra
– which also seemed tight.

Not being able to catch my breath
I couldn’t ask for your number
which was a bummer, sure,
and since you opted not
to take the ambulance ride
to the hospital,
I never got the chance to ask you out.

I sure hope you follow Missed Connections,
and you’d be willing
to go walking with me again
once I get out of Physical Therapy.

When we meet,
could you bring the stilettos?