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?