The speaker is talking to a lover and asking for an honest end to a relationship that has gone empty. The two still share a bed, but the poem insists that lying next to each other has turned into lying to each other. Touching and kissing feel false when the heart isn't in them, and the lips have lost their warmth. The line about windows with blinds drawn suggests two people who can no longer really see one another.
The most striking image is love becoming "a habit like brushing the teeth," something done daily without feeling. The speaker would rather scatter the past like autumn leaves than keep up the pretence. The tone is quiet and tired rather than angry. There is no blame, since "no reprimand for not being in love." The final line, "let us leave," is gentle, almost tender. The mood is sad but calm, with a sense of relief in finally telling the truth.