A/N: Another OC chapter. Lily is my girl, the poem isn't. I'd like to send a special message to an unsigned reviewer named Marcie Cohen: Girl, you are amazing why don't you have your own account so I can lavish proper thanks on you? To all my other reviewers please come back. The next chapter is Mark's. We all love him, don't we?

Lily Dumott, 17, Aspiring Novelist/Singer

Lily, or Tiger Lily, was born Lillian Marie Dumott. But no one ever calls her that—no one who escapes unharmed that is. Angel is her cousin and he gave her that nickname when she started kindergarten to make her feel better about having freckles. He showed her the gorgeous flower and said it too had freckles. Lily never worried again. Now, twelve years later, she looks more like a tiger than a lily. Her shimmering waist length hair is dyed a deep orange and streaked in black and her almond shaped eyes are as green as sea glass. It came as no great surprise to me that when I ask her the favorite poem question she responds with William Blake's "The Tiger."

After about three knocks at her door my redheaded alter-ego appears with large music-studio-sized headphones around her neck.

"Hey honey," she smiles. "Is it my turn?

"You bet it is."

"All right, all right! Let's get crackin'!"

She grabs my arm, full of life as usual and leads me into the room she shares with Juliet. The walls are painted a very soft cantaloupe color but you can't really see it because they've plastered posters, photos and artwork all over the walls. From my angle on the bed I see black and white Jim Morrison pouting gloomily at me. Lily jumps up from the couch in a quick blast of fire and whooshes over to her little mini fridge. She squats down for a moment and then turns to throw me a coke.

"No way, Lil. You know my hand eye coordination is less than zero."

"I know, I know," she laughs. "Just kidding."

She snaps hers open and takes a long swig with closed eyes. She should be in the commercial.

I snap the soda and focus very hard on wrenching off the tab. I hold it up to look at the initial and Lily giggles.

"What's it say?"

It's a superstition among the Peeps that the little letter stamped on a soda can tab is the first letter in the name of your true love. I'm willing to take whatever I can get.

"L," I answer, holding it up for her.

"L for Lily!" she claps. "Yay! We're soul mates, Livia!"

"Well I always knew we were anyway," I grin.

"Aw, glomp!"

She tackles me and I hug her tight, inhaling her sweet perfume. 'Happy' is her signature scent. Once she sits next to me she brushes her hair from her eyes and says:

"So, olive tree, shall we commence with the reading?"

"I wait with bated breath." For some reason I'm laughing. Her happy mood has always been contagious. She skips to the middle of the room just as her girlfriend had done. It's amazing sometimes how love brings resemblance to people who wouldn't otherwise have it. Maybe it's only because im so used to seeing them together.

Lily sinks to her knees in the middle of the floor and with a sultry look in her eyes and on the curve of her mouth.

"TIGER! Tiger! burning bright,
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies
Burned the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand, dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder, and what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? and what dread feet?

What the hammer, what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears,
And watered heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

Tiger! Tiger! burning bright,
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?"

She slinks over to me on her hands and I pull her up onto the bed, hugging her close.

"Brava, ma belle," I smile. "A command performance as always."

"I would not dare disappoint you, my love. Now ask away! This is such fun."

"I'm glad you think so. Okay first question: when did you first hear it?"

"Oh I remember totally. I went to the Bronx Zoo with my mom and dad on my birthday when I turned nine. One of the only things I remember doing with them actually."

She forces a smile and goes on.

"While we were there the thing I wanted more than anything was to see the Bengal Tigers. So we finally get there and there are just these two glorious, beautiful animals behind the glass, a male and a female. And the female was lying sprawled out on her side and the male was licking her. It was incredible. He had such a human look in his eyes like you could see he loved her. And I thought about how these animals could bring down prey and rip it to shreds but still feel love for their mates. It was so moving, so human. I started to cry. Mom freaked, she thought I was having a heat stroke. But my dad, he just put his hand on my shoulder and he recited the poem the whole thing right from memory. That was cool."

She lies down on her back in front of me and puts her head in my lap so we look right into one another's eyes.

"I've never seen a tiger for real," I confess. "But I felt like that when I saw a giraffe once. That was at the Bronx too actually."

"See that? It's a place where miracles happen," she laughs. "No, it really is though. Seeing animals like that, these beautiful creatures from the four corners of the world. It really is a spiritual experience. And if you read like the scholarly accounts of the poem that's totally the point. They say it's a poem about God and creation and I believe it. Blake is addressing the tiger as if it were this divine, almost celestial thing. He's asking it in effect like 'What could create something as amazing as you are?' When I saw that tiger I felt the same thing. I thought, 'God must be pretty powerful if he can make something like this happen."

"I felt the same way the other morning when I was riding to school watching the sun come up. It was the most amazing thing I'd ever seen. Then I looked out the other window and the full moon was still glowing on the other side of the sky. I have a feeling I'll feel that way again looking at the person I fall in love with."

"Exactly!" Lily says. "There are so many beautiful things in this universe, Livvy, so many miracles. Hell, look at us!"

I laugh loudly and play with her pin straight hair.

"Well I don't know about me," I murmur. "You definitely are though.

"Ah no, no, no, olive tree, you too. Most assuredly you are a miracle too."

We sit in silence for a while when the chorus of a song I know comes into my head. Still stroking Lily's hair I begin to hum it.

"They say I must be one of the wonders
Of god's own creation
And as far as they can see they can offer
No explanation."

She knows the tune as well and picks it up.

"O, I believe
Fate smiled and destiny
Laughed as she came to my cradle
Know this child will be able
Laughed as my body she lifted
Know this child will be gifted
With love, with patience and with faith
She'll make her way.

She'll make her way."

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