you - may I ask

there are those
I have tried to love
because I thought I could see
their wonderful colors,
amazing colors that shone
even through the dirt that covered them
at one time or another.

some said: "do not bother to love me"
just as I was trying to paint
their true colors on their faces
they turned into shells
(mostly white shells)
and they still quietly wait
at the shore for yet another wave

some said: " do not bother to love me"
and they stepped out of my way
and into the deep, secret ocean
looking for a different life
and enchantment elsewhere
and they turned into
gently colored and moving anemone

some simply let me touch them
with my hands and my thoughts,
we drank together from glasses
into which we had squeezed
the essence of our true colors.
we must have mixed the wines and got drunk
for a year or two just to wake up
on a desert beach with white stones
everywhere and nobody with whom to share
the taste of salt and our thirst.

these must have turned into mist
and the droplets that fall right before
the raising of the rainbow.

but you - you make coffee for me
every morning, unless I make coffee for you
you - you catch me every time
I glide after being launched
from the top of the mountain
at the start of the rainbow;
you who can swim above all kinds of waters
and under all kinds of rainbows
while holding my hand
you - can I ask? what made you
bother to love me?