Owls.

That's smooth, that is.
The way you twist your neck
And look up at nothing. 

Yes,
There's the move.
That really is something!

Though this old bird,
Her spine doesn't bend that way.
It hurts, so she stays looking down.

And even from the ground, I wonder
How can it be that you're so okay
Facing away from her howls? 

Day after day, these feathers fall
And I pray for a single sound. Oh,
The sharp crack of a vertebrae.

For our sake
Let's say the dirty truth,
Come what may:

If you turn back, crack,
You're less impressive to yourself
But we're both in the same place.

Should I snap,
I'll almost match your pace
Only, I'll never move again.
(I'd do it just to see your face.)

Pick a side, both is fine, 
As long as I can see your eyes.

I'm done facing the back
Of your head.

Snap,
Well isn't this nice?