For the days you hold what's good at arm's length, never quite letting yourself take it in.
Gold ripening into orange, a warm white core. It has the warmth of sun on the back of the neck and the smell of warm bread.
Holding the good at arm's length can feel like humility; mostly it just keeps you empty-handed. It gives nothing new — it warms what's already here, so you can let yourself actually receive it.
Light
Keep it where you hold the good things at a distance.
Witcher
Rest on the bright center, breathe warm and slow, and let one good thing be received instead of held off.
Sealed in the archive. Only the sigil that comes to you today opens in AR.
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