The flogging stone in Bagamoyo by Helen Freeman

sounds the thunk of chains, 

the marimba far off in the distance

and the wind pounding it.

..

Sweat lands like a bloated barbet 

stains ochre from flesh rubbed raw.

Our goodbyes were being born.

..

Groans like rain pelting trees 

fit for no ear, reach mine.

My tongue tastes of tar, timber, 

..

dead fish. The slice of a slave whip, 

luting, shrieking a strident dark music

to no drumbeat. De-fib. Erratic 

..

as the prayers you howled 

under the fall of a hammer,

arms bound in a cross-less execution

..

Bagamoyo –  a Tanzanian coastal town used by slave traders in late 19th century.

It means ‘Say goodbye to your heart’