I am a writer. I am currently employed as a research writer - but I am working on a novel, which is my true passion. I read history, sci fi, thillers, and just about everything else. http://www.myspace.com/point51Here is a sample of my poetry.... Degrees Say your life broke down, your last good kiss was years ago. -Richard HugoFor me to speak of it now, it seems like an apology but I certainly dont want that.There was a night when fate held my hand and pulled me closeto the spring of emotion. My hand touched the warm welcomeand my heart stopped.The smell of lilacs surrounded like a lush. verdant. field.Concentrically from my fingertips, the surface quiveredas my hand explored the unknown.Small areas of neglected cool came immediately to lifebeneath my touch, and fate, leaving me to my own whim,felt confident that I would find my way.I felt in my arms an embrace, and it pulled me inuntil my cheek could feel the calm warmth of emotionas well as my handsMy ears caught sound of the rhythmed pulse, steadilyincreasing the power and speed of its gait untilmy heart marched in step.A taste of copper, carried on breath, and my mouthfelt the pressing aura of discovery parchingand paralyzing my nimble tongue.Proximity. And the losing of boundaries. The joiningof quest and discovery. Attempt and fruition. Conceptand realization. Not now.I pulled my hand from the warm welcome and from the quiveringsurface. Stepping back from the rhythm and copper airMy lips closed unfulfilled.Failure has many degrees if you accept them. Fate offered melove. a kiss. a muse. And I took from the table a longing that suffers and remembers and reminds me --of my last good kiss.