For Conversations can be Poetry

Him:
      Epdi irukka ?

Her:
       I.
       Am.
       I read a lot.
       And have fewer conversations that I used to. But .. more quality.
       I am trying to embrace my aloneness.  
       Not give into any thing that will take away from who I am
       I brood.
       I ponder.
       I have changed.
       I am exceedingly detached
       And see through too many people to put on facades for their sakes

Him:
       You haven't changed that much
       The core is still the same you
       A little less fiery
       A little more balanced and at peace maybe
       But still overwhelmingly YOU
       I guess I know you well enough to say that

 Her:
       Is this a good thing or a bad thing
       Or just a means to a better end

 Him:
       Its just you being you
       And that is always good

 Him:
      I met someone. And while conversing with her, I understood a lot about myself.
      There are certain people who put you in your comfort zone
      To whom you can just be you.
      She is one of them.
      She thinks the way I do on a lot of things, maybe on a deeper level.
      While conversing I've gotten more in touch with who I am
      And all the order, all the prioritising is vanishing
      My mind has been thrown back to the questions I always used to ponder about . 
      Meaning.
      Identity.
      Purpose.
      Who am I truly ?
      What moves me ?
      What shapes me ?
      What I can I give the world ?
      Reading.
      Writing.
      Thoughts.
      Silence.
      Does it make sense?
      Does it remind you of our initial getting to know each other conversations?
Her:
      Yes.
      I think my life has been blessed to have many of those moments .
      Even if the people come and go .

Him:
      I was thinking along the same lines as well
      And people never really go
      A person whom youve touched that deeply
      You will never be a stranger to them
      You are not to me
      Even though its a year since we talked

 Her:
      That never happens
      But life happens.
      For sure
      So we wind and whirl away and occasionally meet
      Ever so often
      Or not.

This is not entirely mine. This has a co-writer who probably contributed more to this than I did.