The music brings the coldness to your feet.

The music brings the coldness to your feet. The heartbeat brings the heat.

And whilst we swayed beneath a moonlit road, I wandered whether my rapid heartbeat was due to the heat, or quite possibly, the fear: a dance so beautiful, I forgot the arms were

so well defined for an octopus. The tentacles grabbed my bare legs popping as they shifted only to reaffirm

their love grip on me. Oh Otto, I sighed. What would I ever do without my 8-armed lover? I stroked his tentacles as he led me to his favourite seafood Bistro. He raised a tentacle

and wrapped another around my shoulders as we slithered to the seafood bistro. Davy Jones had nothing on Otto. We found a wide corner booth near a large aquarium. "I'll have

to pick up the tab next time, as it seems I forgot my wallet," said Davy as Otto and I rolled our eyes. He did this every time. But by now our mouths watered for a taste of lobster

The food could be served. The lobster forks sang as we dipped the meat in drowned butter. The song was unrecognisable because it was in the lobster's own tongue we recorded it and

we didn't know how to translate it. Lobster tongue is a mystery for the ages. At least that was what we thought.

And then the solution presented itself! What if we could train lobsters to speak english? I opened the google translate app on my iPhone and handed it to the lobster.