Dear Frenemy

Dear Frenemy,
once you said to me,

"Look, it's as plain as
sand touching the sea,
as simple as this piano-
and its broken keys:

Ivory and Ebony,
that's all we'll ever be."

You add, forgetfully,
"That's the one I used to play before."

I say, regretfully,
"Couldn't agree more!
 We're only binary,
Only ebony and ivory,"

As I walk out the door.
And go and write in my diary-

'I wonder if he knew,
or even considered true,
how a prism splits light,
ironically, white.
into a damned spectrum.
What a conundrum!'