Right after I meant not to write

but something reminded me of Frank O'Hara:

...I want my feet to be bare,
I want my face to be shaven, and my heart --
you can't plan on the heart, but
the better part of it, my poetry, is open.

And then a line from Audre Lourde, which I think I first saw in something of Yisheng's:

love is a word, another kind of open.

And Larkin:

On me your love falls like an enormous yes

And some times, other times, I am afraid. For what that might mean, for both and either of us.