If this piece reminds you of you, it's working. My vision of poetry is as a place for a reader to find hirself.

Personally, I haven't decided what I see in this. There's either a lonely man of questionable reliability as narrator staring at a mannequin through the display window of a closed department store, or an elderly widow inviting Death (as a personification) (or possibly a vampire) to come take her away now that the love upon whom she has built her life is gone so she can meet the end on her own terms.

And obviously, if I wrote it and can't quite be sure what it means, there's plenty of room for your own interpretation. :)