The Queer Query ...

Yes, I held you as you wept.
But, was it instinct
- a fit of the sublime?
Or, was I just being adept,
Sly, more than succinct,
Acting out an abstract mime?

I guess, even as I ask,
I'm not looking for a response;
The answer might let me bask,
And me, within my convictions, ensconce.
Or, to bemoan if I'm stirred,
I can't let you hold me,
Nor alone see to it it's interred,
That depressingly squalid imagery.