Wrist poem – This is not my hand

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The texts read:

This is not my hand.
Hamlet knows it not. Hamlet denies it.

You’re a hopeless romantic, Faber said.
It would be funny were it not serious.

You’re intuitively right, and that’s what counts.
Denham’s dentrifice… Consider the lilies, they toil not, neither do they spin.

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