Love is pictured here as a scientist, or maybe a careless artist, poking around in a woman's body to see what happens. The phrase "her two bodies" is striking. It could point to pregnancy, with one body carrying another, or to the way a person is both a physical self and an inner one. The poem then moves to milk filling the breasts, a very physical, bodily change, and to the odd idea of fermenting a kiss, as if affection were wine or bread.
The speaker's tone is hard to pin down. There's wonder in these images, but also some unease, because love "could experiment" without asking whether the experiment is wanted. The last lines are the sharpest. Love is compared to a poet who has never seen "a heart at rest," someone who writes about passion without knowing calm or stillness. The mood is curious, intimate, and a little wary: love is exciting and creative, but restless and perhaps not very careful.