Read the stanza from "Sonnet in Primary Colors” by Rita Dove. Each night she lay down in pain and rose to the celluloid butterflies of her Beloved Dead, Lenin and Marx and Stalin arrayed at the footstead. And rose to her easel, the hundred dogs panting like children along the graveled walks of the garden, Diego’s love a skull in the circular window of the thumbprint searing her immutable brow. How does the underlined figurative language contribute to the meaning of the poem?