Silent End of Night

Whimper bang, in my head it ends both
Going out but not quite, in the kitchen
Fraught with fog; what do we want, this
Vague entity, how can we situate to find
What it needs? Intuitions fail, with wine
To stir pots, sink not into our places, 
Our spines won't touch cots; look not to
My eyes, I give myself out, for inside we
Are still, outside it moves on