A thin bird is preening its feathers between my shirt and the top layer of my skin. I try to make the girl with a blueberry striped face understand this but she rolls her eyes in a way that makes me want to breathe underwater until I turn to pile of feathers. I want to pass the president’s physical fitness test. I want to do jumping jacks and become a politician. I say sometimes I daydream about sipping water in the most sensual of ways. She responds sometimes my back is a dry martini. I drink her like gunpowder and disease and she tastes so good that I refuse to leave her bed. She throws water on me but I am water so she throws a cat on me. She dismantles her bed and uses the sideboard to break holes in her wall. Gold coins come pouring out and we laugh. I say life is more like Super Mario than we realize and leave her bed. She repaints her face blueberry and says you can come over next weekend if you promise to leave before my husband comes home.