Fondant memories

A glint of greed
for the cooling rack,
positions held,
back to back.
Ten paces walked
poised, adroit,
skill well matched
for this little spat.
Forward, deft thrust
left and right,
spread the cake,
icing white.
'I get the bowl'
the victor cries,
a sticky, gooey
melted prize.
'It isn't fair,
you cut and slash.....'

'It's not a cheat
C'est mon ganache'