superlove
Jen Sepso
you’re the one who taught me
you don’t pay for pussy
you pay a bitch to leave
cuz she might catch feelings
so you’d cum first
then me always in that order
maybe i’d fuck her with a strap on
pretend that for once
i could be the driver
mercedes, kylie, jessica—
you said they could all be the same
and when you asked again
if we could keep one
you heard yes already
so i let you go alone
by then i wore your name
like i wore the pretty black diamond
on my finger
each time you came home later
i stubbed cigarettes
into my face in the mirror
blew smoke into empty decanters
got up to watch the empty streets
from our 3rd floor window
i don’t sleep
when i close my eyes
i dream of you driving with her
and i’m in the trunk
and when i wake up
you’re gone
no note
who ghosts their wife
where are you living
if it’s not our home
remember when you told me
you super loved me
like you were drowning in it
now look who’s the idiot
i am—
i am drowning alone
so what are you gonna give me
to leave
Jen Sepso is a Chinese Canadian poet based in New York. She won the 2026 Boudin Writing Contest and was awarded a Martha’s Vineyard Institute of Creative Writing fellowship. Her work appears in Peatsmoke Journal and is forthcoming in Bayou Magazine and the June Road Press anthology. Find her on Instagram at @jensepso.


