About an arrow

I have this little poem
About an arrow
I’ve been working on
And I try to read it
To some lovers who have listened
And listened
And they all seem
To think its crazy
They told me they see
No arrow in there
I’m going nuts
Kind of mad
Writing about tongues and love making
And arrows
I keep telling them
This is not about
Tongues and love making
Don’t get distracted by details
Don’t love small parts
Look to the original
Be an all
Not a part
But they all were parts, my lovers
And they didn’t recognize an all
Without its part
They don’t recognize any alls
Any parts
Nothing
Not even an arrow
And its parts like
Some say I’m too petty
Too critical
Demanding
But when it gets to
Tongues
And love making
I wonder
What’s wrong with my arrows?
I guess, the answer is,
I should find
Better lovers.