A speaker cries over someone they have lost, and the poem turns that moment into something quiet and almost tender. The tears are "thick yet delicate like early morning mist," so the sadness feels heavy but soft at the same time. Then the speaker looks to the sky and sees the moon sharing the mood. Its light turns "dusty and weak," as though the moon is grieving too, and that makes the speaker feel less alone.
The final line is the most striking. Losing love is compared to being "choked with silk," which pairs pain with smoothness. It hurts, even slowly kills, yet the speaker still "revels" in the "soft, lingering touch." Judging by this image, the speaker can't fully let go of the love, because the memory is both what hurts and what comforts. The mood is hushed, wistful and a little dreamy, with sorrow that is gentle rather than angry.