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If you eat enough saffron, it will kill you.

Consuming excess amounts of the spice
induces a laughing fit
so violent that you cease to breathe.

Saffron crocus each bear up to four flowers
with three vivid crimson stigmas.
Three red outstretched hands,
conjuring pollen like pixie dust.
Three street signs that say
“65 MPH,” “stop,” and “caution.”

Saffron contains more than 150 volatile
and aroma-yielding compounds.
One flower, 150 scents.
150 reasons to leave.
150 moments when you should have said yes
but instead turned away and avoided the situation.
You avoid the volatile whenever possible.

Saffron is not all of the same quality and strength.
Just as women are not all of the same quality
and strength.

Avoid me
or
consume me.
Either way,

one of us dies laughing.

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