yoonoos peerbocus - Itch

Who understands the logic
Behind the desire
That flurries up nausea and breasts' itch,
Unmet, fret frown as birthmark
What's me made-hunger raw obsession,
Through blood cord,
Sip, what's mother chew drip

Whose juice taste of gardens
Arrested in autumn scent
Voluptuous with citron, myrtle, jasmine
Alive with bees buzz.
I sense all fruit sap
As current of our blood...
The green flooding into the red.

yoonoos peerbocus

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/itch-7/