The speaker opens with what sounds like a piece of startling news: in a dream, they kissed a dead woman. It's offered almost like a anecdote, but the tone quickly turns more desperate. The questions that follow, "Is there anything warm / that could burn up the cold?" and "anything might remind me of home?", suggest someone who is freezing, lonely, and searching for comfort.
The most striking moment comes when the speaker asks where home is, then corrects themselves: "Or, rather, was?" Home slips from present to past, and then the poem twists it again: "It was in the future." That strange line makes home feel both lost and never reached, something longed for but not yet, or never, possible to have. Judging by the imagery, the dream kiss may stand for a connection with someone gone, a brief warmth that disappears on waking. The poem ends flatly: "Now, the present is cold." The mood is bleak, dreamlike, and quietly aching.