Cleo plays a game, she tests people, pushes them to limits, measures them with abstracted nonsense.
If I sit down before you, you love me
If I get in at exactly 4.38, you love me
If you take a sip of tea...now, you love me
If you sneeze twice, you love me
If I see more than three birds today, you love me

Birds. Cleo sees magic in flocks of birds, she wants to float and fly away, but knows she never can - hatred makes you heavy. A thousand ballons wouldn't do it, not if they were filled with gas, not if you tied her to a space rocket or strapped her to an albatross, she will always be a dead weight. Her heart is a big flat stone.

Cleo plays a game, she tests herself, pushes herself to the boundaries of sanity. Makes herself repeat and repeat the same phrase on the piano, the same song, over and over and over till she gets it right. She thinks; If I get it right, you'll love me.