Waiting

Waiting.
I don't know why.
It almost
Touches
My spine,
Stiff straight,
Arched backs
Like a catfight.
A level gaze,
Waiting
For my explanation,
Which I intend
To withhold.
I was not looking
For correction,
Waiting
For the blow to
Fall-
Anne Boleyn,
And 7, 9, 20,
Sing a song of sixpence.
This silence
Would drive you crazy,
Waiting
For an answer.