Untitled I went crazy last night, in a dream. Drooling, stark raving mad. Shall I reach for you next time i dream? Will I find bleached bones or a rotting, squirming mass grinning, unblinking, or a pillow filled with your smell. The smell of your surrender to gentle, safe sleep these last thousand nights by my side.
Jim Barnard's Questions:
Is the theme too obscure?
Is the second stanza's description gratuitous?