Any

I occasionally mistype my name, spelling Any, and oftentimes will pause before correction. Because for a moment, I am Anyone, someone who I always am and you always are too.  Whose voice is a mystery, like conversations blowing in on the wind. I want to know what the voices say, let my name be a vehicle for Any to hide beneath and speak out of, like a medium of sorts. Any is hiding in there all the time, anyway.

It feels like, until I hit backspace, there is so much possibility and then I erase and it’s just me (but it is just me, and you, and all Amy’s and Really,

It’s just a name and a word.
A rock splashing in the water, for thoughts to spiral off of just like
Anything else
One could say