Fleeting moments.  Like the ones created in the deep of the night and very edge of morning.

A simple look, a complicated touch.  And the words that churn in the knots that form in your throat. Sometimes these moments pass you by almost as if they never even existed, and then sometimes they are defining and act as an unmistakeable leap between one moment where you know everything and one when you suddenly know nothing at all.  These fleeting moments, will they look the same tomorrow?