The poem sets two scenes side by side. In the first, faces conceal more than they show. The opening line is a little puzzling: the "looks" people give each other, the expressions we wear, seem to hide the real face underneath. In daily life, then, we perform and guard ourselves. Then the poem shifts to bed, where, it says, "we could see." Seeing here sounds like something deeper than eyesight, a kind of clear recognition that only happens in intimacy, when the masks come off.
The last two lines change the temperature. All night a cold wind blows through the windows, which is odd and a bit unsettling. The closeness of the couple is real, but it isn't sealed off from the world. The wind suggests vulnerability, or perhaps a chill that lingers even in tenderness. The speaker seems to feel both things at once: the rare relief of being truly seen, and an awareness that this closeness is fragile. The mood is quiet, tender and slightly uneasy.