In the hush of midnight, I sit by a still pond—my black hair drifting like ink on water, my face barely visible in the dim glow. This is not performance; it’s my soul speaking without words. Here, time slows. Beauty isn’t curated—it’s found in the tremor of a breath, the ripple on skin, the quiet defiance of being unseen. I write this not for likes, but because silence remembers me better than noise ever could.

\n","published_at","2025-10-08T18:33:16.015104+08:00","published_url","rating_total",72,"share_total",1314,"Whispered Waters: A Silent Ritual of Black Hair, Moonlight, and the Quiet Strength of Solitude","updated_at","2025-10-08T19:10:16.015329+08:00",{"_466":276,"_269":487,"_665":666},"user_info",{"_667":487,"_332":668,"_675":487,"_651":487,"_676":276,"_289":276},"fans_total",{"_669":276,"_639":276,"_670":487,"_671":276,"_672":487,"_269":487,"_298":276,"_296":276,"_673":487,"_642":276,"_643":-5,"_7":276,"_300":276,"_674":487},"content_type","duration","format","height","size","width","follow_total","nick_name","view_total",1146,"features",[],"message",{"_466":683,"_269":684,"_327":-5,"_665":685},"/yuki-haruka-92",52264,{"_667":686,"_332":687,"_675":697,"_651":698,"_676":699,"_289":700},3969,{"_669":688,"_639":276,"_670":487,"_671":689,"_672":690,"_269":691,"_298":692,"_296":693,"_673":694,"_642":695,"_643":696,"_7":276,"_300":276,"_674":690},"image/png","png",512,389690,"mmg84o34johq.png","6qx6nd/wf7",394170,".png",[],447,79205,"yuki.haruka92","I’m Yuki — a Tokyo-based visual poet who captures the quiet magic between moments. No filters. No poses. Just real women living fully: tea steam at dawn, handwritten notes on trains, silence under cherry blossoms. This isn’t about beauty — it’s about being seen as you are.","data",{"_318":625,"_703":704,"_705":706},"action","DsUserInfo","query",{},{"_312":276,"_313":276,"_314":276},"actionData","errors"]

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yuki.haruka92

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