Read Poem: Cold Soufflé Vanilla Pudding Redo, by Ruslan Baiazov

I checked into the same serene cool room where you stayed in, Sugar
Hotel Del Coronado, off of the coast of California and its glittering
I opened the window to honor your presence among the soft white linen
sheets that you laid your body upon once
I checked the drawer to make sure dust hasn’t settled among your long
lost forgotten ethereal fingerprints that I adore so much
And the beach still looks the same as the last time you’ve been here
The sand’s tender grains brushing upon the soles of my feet, somehow
knowing that I’m here because of your trust in me
The sun gently giving me a hot red smooch on my face, warning me to
not be under its presence for too long if I stay
While I lay, I think about the cold pudding in my room that you used
to order every day from the kind hotel chef who didn’t know your name
And it will probably melt by the time I get back to rest
I walk back barefoot, my sandals in my hands towards the days end
when the sun sinks into the west
I know that you never truly fell in love with anyone, Sugar Kane
That’s why our feelings are mutual on this very day
They stem from the fact that our tropical souls are caught up in the
storms of never-ending pain
That’s why I came here to seek answers to questions that you couldn’t
I’m still searching for them to understand why and how
And for anyone who came after you, stuck in the same primordial limbo
of crisis to find existential happiness in Del Coronado
They are no longer here
That’s why I stay in the very same room where you had your melting
pudding drip on the white linen sheets
Where the midnight breeze cools off the sunburn on my cheeks
Where existential happiness can be found not by looking or seeking it
but simply by living
A happy child cannot be sad if he has everything he wants
And that reminded me of the inner beauty that you possessed
The beauty that you didn’t seek but that bloomed like a flower from
The beauty that was not recognized in the times that you lived
So, I leave the pudding sitting near the window sill, facing the
The ocean singing a sweet symphony just like you did
The same old musicians playing their instruments on repeat
You are never forgotten just as with others, sometimes only
remembered when circumstances are altered
I checked into the same room where you stayed in, Sugar Kane
Hotel Del Coronado, one pudding to taste


Author: poetryfest

Submit your Poetry to the Festival. Three Options: 1) To post. 2) To have performed by an actor 3) To be made into a film.

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